


House of Blossoms

by chimwonshik



Series: House of Blossoms [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Leo, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hakyeon is a good friend, Happy Ending, Hongbin is a lovable shit, I feel terrible, Lack of Communication, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Leo, POV Ravi, Pining, Praise Kink, Prostitute Hongbin, Prostitute Ravi, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Socially Awkward Ravi, Tailor Hakyeon, Tailor Taekwoon, ken isn't in this, top ravi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimwonshik/pseuds/chimwonshik
Summary: [Revamped from the AFF original]When Taekwoon accompanies Hyuk to a derelict hotel on the outskirts of town - the residence of a strictly invitation only...den of iniquity- he's not expecting it to be such a clean and professional establishment. What's even more unexpected is the temptation to book time with a man of astonishing good looks that he finds inside.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some people might recognise this fic from AFF, but I’ve decided to do a revamped version because even though the original fic holds a special place in my heart, rereading it just makes me cringe at certain places.
> 
> This version is a few thousands words longer than the original with some of the bigger alterations coming in the latter half and entire conversations scrapped and rewritten. There’s more detailed (and a little extra) smut too and it’s just overall better written (at least, I like to think I’ve improved as a writer in the last three years!). The original version is going to remain as it is on AFF, so if you want to compare the two, feel free!
> 
> Writing this now, I’d probably condense the chapter count (I think one of the chapters isn’t even 400 words long. What was I thinking??) but I’m so used to seeing this as 25 chapters that I can’t help but stick with that nice round number.
> 
> I was incredibly blessed to have been made a fanvid for this fic by yunyunsnow which you can watch [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zfU2Ks1N9XQ) to get you in the mood. I’m still not over it! And below are two posters made by [wontaektv](http://wontaektv.tumblr.com) over on tumblr that I still adore.
> 
> That’s enough nervous rambling from me. On to the fic!

         

* * *

The derelict hotel looming over Taekwoon’s head has to be the ugliest building he’s ever seen, which is saying something considering every building they’ve passed in the last few minutes could have come straight out of an apocalypse. Even beneath the boarded up windows and layers of grime, it looks like it was originally the colour of sewage.

He drags his eyes from stains at foot level that he doesn’t want to identify to the flaking billboard on the next building over featuring a long outdated toothpaste ad. The model’s stained grin leers down at him. Taekwoon shivers and draws his coat tighter about himself like it might protect him from disease. He’s half expecting to see discarded needles in the gutters.

Beside him, Sanghyuk, his friend and work colleague, has no such reservations. He’s walking instead with a spring in his step and excitement on his face. His enthusiasm is not contagious.

 _What am I doing? What am I doing?_ has been cycling around and around in Taekwoon’s head ever since he agreed to come with Hyuk for this experience, wishing he could have a bit of Hakyeon’s restraint. Now they’ve arrived, a tendril of nausea and foreboding has begun to twist and coil in his stomach.

"I can’t believe you talked me into accompanying you to a… a… _whore house!_ " he hisses.

"Oh, come on. It’s not as sleazy as that!"

 _Not as_ — _?_ "The practice is the same no matter how high class you might say it is!" Taekwoon argues, still whispering.

"Stop acting so noble. You must be at least a little bit interested or you wouldn’t be here." Hyuk throws him an amused sideways glance.

Taekwoon bristles but Hyuk’s right. He _is_ intrigued.

He stands back as Hyuk steps up to the hotel door and presses the buzzer, surprisingly spotless in contrast to the rest of their surroundings. The sound is distant on their side of the door, and when Hyuk releases the button they wait in silence for a good few seconds. When some static sounds, he’s expecting someone to greet them, but whoever is on the other end doesn’t speak. Instead, Hyuk leans in to give his personal password.

"Columbia. And a guest."

A few long moments pass before they’re buzzed in. Hyuk pulls open the door, turning to throw Taekwoon an excited grin.

Taekwoon can’t keep his mouth from twisting in distaste. He follows Hyuk inside regardless after a quick glance up and down the street, his curiosity building in spite of himself. What meets him inside is a shock to say the least.

In contrast to the building’s grimy exterior, the interior is clean and white, feeling bright and airy even though the room they’re in is windowless. Instead, the walls on either side are each hung with a canvas featuring colourful, abstract smears of paint that Taekwoon doesn’t care much for, and in one of the opposite corners are some red orchids in a charcoal ceramic bowl on a waist high corner table.

The room smells of fresh laundry with a note of citrus, and ambient music is playing from speakers in the ceiling, the sort that makes him feel like he might float away if he shuts his eyes. The floor is spotless marble and he takes extra care in cleaning his shoes against the mat, terrified of leaving even a speck of dirt. He finds himself releasing his coat, forgetting about any previous misgivings.

Directly in front of them is a lift, the doors already open and waiting. He follows Hyuk inside, and sees five buttons on the control panel, ranging from 3 to B2, though there’s a space in the middle occupied by a raised letter G where the ground floor button should have been. Taekwoon assumes it’s because they’re to exit the building from a different door. Either that or they’re never leaving.

That thought makes him shudder, nightmares of being forced into sexual slavery racing through his mind despite the fact that Hyuk has assured him, on multiple occasions, that the people who work here do it of their own free will and can quit at any time.

Beside each button in raised letters is the information for each floor: Rooms 21 - 40, Rooms 1 - 20, Waiting Rooms, Reception, Rooms A - Z. The last set of rooms, down in B2, have the hairs on the back of Taekwoon’s neck standing up, sure they can only be used for the sorts of fantasies that involve… illegal acts. Well, _even worse_ illegal acts.

Hyuk presses B1 for the Reception. The doors close and they make a smooth descent before they open again on a room much the same size as the one they just left. It’s also decorated much the same, the only differences being a red antique sofa against the right wall and a small red light above the door opposite.

Hyuk shrugs off his coat and sinks onto the seat.

Taekwoon gives him a quizzical look. "What now?" he asks.

"We wait," Hyuk answers, nodding towards the light. "Someone’s already inside," he elaborates at Taekwoon’s baffled expression. "People like their privacy, the customers here more than most."

Taekwoon nods in understanding. He wouldn’t want strangers hanging about and listening to him list the fantasies he wants performed. Or friends for that matter, but it’s not as if he’ll ever do such a thing anyway.

He lowers himself onto the sofa next to Hyuk, perching right on the edge and ignoring his friend’s snort; he’s a hundred steps outside his comfort zone and he’ll do whatever he needs to put himself at ease.

They sit in silence, Taekwoon focusing on the soothing music permeating the room from the speakers overhead to try to calm his now thundering heart.

After ten minutes pass, he speaks up.

"Isn’t it a bit of pain having to come down here every time?"

"It is possible to do it by phone—"

 _Then why didn’t you?_ Taekwoon narrows his eyes in displeasure.

"—but it’s more fun to get the full experience. And I wanted you to see it."

Before Taekwoon has the chance to voice his irritation, the light above the next door goes green and Hyuk all but jumps to his feet. He pulls it open and waves Taekwoon through ahead of him. His stomach twists with unease as he steps inside but, once again, it isn’t as scary as he’s been imagining.

It’s another white room, still windowless what with being underground, and they’re faced by a reception desk with mood lighting around the base slowly changing colour. Behind it sits a woman looking to be in her late twenties, dressed as a stereotypical secretary fantasy. Behind her, television screens cover the walls, most of which feature head shots of what Taekwoon can only assume are the… employees. The pictures change at different intervals, revealing new faces, predominantly women. The other televisions, along with one on the customer’s side of the counter, scroll through surprisingly modest photoshoots of each of the employees along with their ‘name’.

The woman welcomes them. "Good afternoon."

Hyuk returns the greeting but Taekwoon only nods his head with an awkward jerk.

"Are you here to book together, or separately?" she asks, fingers hovering over her keyboard.

Taekwoon’s body jolts. _Together?_

"Separate," Hyuk answers, totally unfazed by this woman asking if they’re looking to schedule a threesome. "I’m here to book, he’s undecided."

 _Undecided?_ He is _not_ undecided! He is _not_ going to pay to have sex with— _Holy. Mother. Of God._

His mouth falls open and he draws in a shaky breath, eyes glazing over as he stares at the new pictures crawling across the screens behind the receptionist’s head. The screen beside him gives a closer look and he turns to glue his eyes to it.

The man steadily scrolling by has a thin face, perfectly shaped eyebrows and white blond hair with a small, delicate mouth that shines invitingly in the flash of the camera. But it’s his eyes that really have the breath leaving his lungs. A thin line of black hugs the rim and the shape has an almost sleepy quality, which belies the man's intense, fiery gaze flooding Taekwoon with the sensation that his shirt is unbuttoning all on its own.

In some of the photos, the man is lying in a bath, the white shirt he’s wearing translucent in the water, while in others he’s simply sitting on a stool. He seems to be showing off his hands in all of them and Taekwoon is not complaining.

In a cursive script at the bottom of the screen, his ‘name’ is revealed to be Ravi.

Taekwoon stares until the final photo scrolls out of sight and is replaced by a woman. Something inside his head is shouting _Come back!_ and he tears his eyes away, swallowing hard.

During this time, Hyuk has been busy conversing with the receptionist, but when she pauses to riffle through a filing cabinet, it gives Hyuk a chance to glance at him. Taekwoon's expression doesn’t go unnoticed.

"What’s wrong? See someone you like?" He walks around Taekwoon to the television and begins to swipe his fingers across it, revealing it to be touchscreen. He keeps going backwards until Taekwoon’s gaze gravitates back to the screen and turns to regard what can only be a demigod staring back at them. He holds his finger still, keeping the images in place.

"Ravi is available to male clients," says the woman behind the desk.

"I’m not going to…" Taekwoon begins to squeak, but he can’t bring himself to say the words.

"He’ll have a form," Hyuk says, ignoring him, and she fishes one out that’s tailored to the man that’s caught his eye. She hands one to Hyuk for someone named Ken, and Taekwoon doesn’t know what possesses him to actually reach out and take the one she’s offering him, along with a form asking for all of his personal details. He’s not sure he wants to give these people that information but Hyuk is the worst kind of influence.

"Take as long as you need," the receptionist says as she hands him a black ballpoint pen. She keeps hold of it when Taekwoon tries to take it from her. He finally meets her eyes. "There’s no judgement here," she says, kindly. He’s sure it’s not part of the script but for his benefit, and he turns away to hide flaming cheeks.

He follows Hyuk on wooden legs to a sofa behind them that’s of the same design as the one in the previous room, this time accompanied by a coffee table. By the time Taekwoon sits down, his friend is already scribbling away on his form, ticking boxes at expert speed. Taekwoon stares down at his as if it’s going to catch fire. His eyes rake over the words on the page, flushing harder the further down he gets.

There are options for the type of room, duration, clothes, character, sexual acts, _positions_. Even for the types of condoms. Hyuk has already informed him that the more extras you tick adds to the price. Across the top in bold red ink are a few warnings, listing things such as erotic asphyxiation and blood play as strictly prohibited, resulting in an instant ban if anyone attempts to perform them. There’s also no exchanging of fluids, meaning that even kissing on the lips isn’t an option.

He’s not in control of his body as he picks up the pen and starts ticking boxes, but he’s at least pleased to see his subconscious is picking the vanilla options. The fact that he’s doing this at all is adventurous enough. His ears grow hot when he realises he’s ticked the box for ‘some’ beside the dirty talk option but he doesn’t make a move to scribble it out.

When he reaches the section to choose the room, the cheapest options are either the ‘bedroom’ or ‘hotel room’. He chooses the bedroom after only a quick moment of hesitation, hoping it will make it feel less like a sleazy one night stand. His eyes continue to trail further down the list but he stops when he starts getting to things like ‘torture chamber’, uneasy that his suspicions might actually be correct and not wanting to discover the full length of debauchery people could go to.

Hyuk has already finished filling in his choices and Taekwoon just about jumps out of his skin when he leans over to pantomime taking a peek at his sheet. He clutches it to his chest and Hyuk laughs before going to the receptionist to hand his form over and pay.

Taekwoon moves on to filling in his personal details on the other sheet, his hands shaking, and he lingers in his seat once he’s finished, staring down at the boxes he’s ticked.

"Are you ready?"

He jumps when Hyuk addresses him and somehow manages to stand on trembling legs. He totters over to the desk, hesitating when the woman holds out her hand for his forms. She patiently holds one end as he refuses to let go of the other.

But then his eyes fall on Ravi’s head shot over her shoulder: a black and white shirtless photograph that just shows the top of his chest and collar bones. In the photo, he has a moody expression, one that has Taekwoon shivering as he imagines how dominant he might be.

"Taekwoon," Hyuk sings and he tears his eyes away to see Hyuk has found Ravi’s pictures on the television again. He stares at the photos, just as dumbstruck as the first time, and by the time he manages to come back to himself, his fingers have let go of the sheet. The receptionist is already busy calculating the damage to his wallet.

"And when would you like to make this appointment for?" she asks, her eyes expectant as she gazes at him over the desk.

"U-Umm…"

"Please keep in mind that weekends are the most expensive and evenings are also an extra fee."

That means he’ll be booking an afternoon off work.

"Th-then… a… a Wednesday?" he squeaks. Is he seriously going to book the day off work to come down here and have sex with a man he’s never met? A man with gloriously long legs and luxuriously bronze skin and irresistibly defined collarbones that are just begging to be—

"I can put you in on the twenty-eighth of January at two o’clock?"

Taekwoon shakes himself, taking what little comfort he can in the fact that he at least managed to stifle a whimper.

Twenty-eighth of January. That’s a little over three weeks away. "O-Okay."

"So, that will be a one hour session, ending at three o’clock. Overtime will not be tolerated." She says the last bit almost as if she’s talking to herself, nonchalant, but he can tell it’s a serious warning and it’s imperative he pays heed to it. He doesn’t want to find out what sort of penalty he’ll receive if he stays past his allotted time.

She adds the cost of the date and time to her figure and when she reveals the final price, Taekwoon thinks his knees might buckle.

Hyuk leans over to whisper in his ear. "It’s worth every penny."

He hands over his card in a daze, and when the transaction is complete, the woman hands it back with what looks like a business card. On one side is a phone number and the other has the word _Montgomery_ , gold embossed on black.

"That’s your password. You can use the phone number for future appointments or you can do them here if you wish. When you next return, you’ll need to take the lift to the waiting rooms."

He nods and she taps a few more keys on her keyboard before regarding them with a pleasant smile.

"We’ll see you soon."

"Thanks," Hyuk replies, placing a hand on Taekwoon’s shoulder to steer him from the room.

Taekwoon is thankful for the assistance; he’s in no state to be moving of his own accord.

Sure enough, the door they exit by leads them to a different lift that does have a ground floor button. He sags against the handrail as Hyuk presses it.

"I can’t believe you just made me do that."

"You’re acting like someone held a gun to your head!"

Taekwoon frowns. _They shouldn’t have had those pictures scrolling around on the TVs!_

He doesn’t want to admit out loud just how much Ravi’s photographs had affected him – even though the proof is already in the hole in his bank account – and settles instead with saying, " _You_ shouldn’t have been encouraging me!"

"You’ll be thanking me for it later." Hyuk says it with an air of such certainty and smugness that Taekwoon wants to beat him over the head.

The lift doors open and Taekwoon follows Hyuk outside, taking a much needed breath of air. A strong gust of wind has him hurrying to pull the zip on his coat higher, glancing behind at the door swinging closed as they step out onto the street. He’s already thinking about the next time he’ll be back.

_God help me._


	2. Chapter 2

When the twenty-eighth of January comes, Taekwoon arrives for his appointment nearly thirty minutes early and already trembling. The street looks no different, flaky billboard, filthy stains and all, and he can’t help but be influenced by them, wanting to turn and run, forgetting that it’s just a front to keep people away.

The buzzer is jarring to his ears and he speaks his password with a humiliating stutter. Inside, the music that had helped soothe him previously is just a soundtrack to his distress.

Once again, the lift doors are open, but this time he presses for the first floor, the Waiting Rooms. The ascent seems to take an age and he can’t stop glancing at his reflection on the walls, his face pale and lips quivering. When the doors finally open, a handsome man in a tuxedo greets him with a genial smile, though Taekwoon isn’t sure if it’s because it’s how he greets all of their customers or because Taekwoon's nervousness is tangible.

"If you'd like to follow me," the man offers, gesturing a white-gloved hand down the corridor ahead furnished with wood-panelled walls and a deep red carpet. It’s a great difference to the rest of the building he's seen so far, Taekwoon thinks as he follows the man down the hallway. It feels like he’s been transported to some sort of mansion and he wonders if the decor is left over from its previous function as a hotel.

Numerous doors line the corridor but the man stops at the fifth one down on the left, holding it open for Taekwoon to enter. Inside, the walls and carpeting are the same as in the corridor and there’s an antique sofa with cream damask upholstery pushed against the opposite wall, a window behind it. The two walls either side are lined with packed bookshelves.

He turns to the man, ready for his next instruction, but he's already shut the door behind him. Taekwoon guesses that the clue is already in the name, so he moves to the sofa to wait. Even though Hyuk informed him that all the windows in the building are one way, he still doesn’t feel comfortable looking out. He keeps his back to it, nervously bouncing his knee as nausea coils in his stomach.

A clock is above the door, the numbers taking the form of roman numerals, and he spends the next twenty five minutes watching the second hand crawl around the face, clasping and unclasping his hands and wiping off sweat on the knees of his black jeans.

It feels like he’s waiting to be called in to a job interview, only so much worse. He starts to wonder if that’s a scene anyone has ever requested to perform, maybe even an employee having an affair with their boss. It’s intriguing to imagine just how many fantasies must have been given life in this place. He scrounges up an image of Ravi seated at a desk wearing a suit, but the exact details of his features have gone murky in the weeks since he was here last and it’s hardly doing anything for his nerves.

By the time the door opens at exactly 1:59, he’s on the verge of hyperventilating and stares wide-eyed up at the same man beckoning him to follow. He breathes shallowly in through his nose and out through his mouth as he gets to his feet, willing some strength into his legs.

Instead of turning right to go back the way they came, the man takes him down the corridor and around the corner to another lift, doors open as seems to be the norm for this place. The man presses the button for the second floor once they’re both inside, and as they ascend, he wordlessly hands Taekwoon a black key card with a 3 emblazoned upon it in gold.

When the lift reaches their destination, he directs Taekwoon out of the doors into a corridor furnished identically to the one below, but this time the man doesn’t follow. Taekwoon can only watch as the doors slide shut on his last chance to back out and and he’s left alone in the hallway, an eerie silence pressing in from all directions. He sucks in a useless, shuddering breath through his mouth and ventures down the corridor, footsteps soundless on the plush carpet. He’s squeezing the key card so tightly in his hand that he wouldn't be surprised if he were dripping a trail of blood.

The room he needs is only the second door down and he forces his card into the reader with trembling hands, missing the slot an embarrassing number of times. Once it finally reaches home, the door feels heavy beneath his palm as he pushes it open.

Inside, it’s like he’s been transported somewhere else again. It’s decorated in creams and browns, dark hardwood flooring beneath his feet with a pale fluffy rug in the centre of the room the same colour as the covers of the king-size bed that it passes under. What must be blackout curtains are pulled across a window in the back left corner, the cosy lighting giving the room the impression of evening. Against the walls are a wardrobe, chest of drawers and two bedside tables, and there’s a desk in front of the window that makes it seem as if the room doubles as the occupant’s study.

The desk chair, leather and high-backed, spins around at his entrance, revealing said occupant.

Actually seeing a person waiting for him is surreal. Somehow, despite the form he'd filled in, despite the transaction going through, despite the card he'd been given with his own private password, despite all of it, he hadn't truly believed this would happen. A part of him had been expecting to arrive at the room first and a bigger part of him hadn’t been able to imagine Ravi turning up at all. Now the situation is actually unfolding, he feels an odd detachment, like he isn’t really here.

Until Ravi rises from the chair and gets closer, that is.

He’s wearing a thin knit jumper and navy pyjama bottoms, looking like he's just thrown on some clothes after a shower to lounge about for the evening. He’s barefoot, softly padding across the rug towards him with a playful twist to his delicate mouth and exuding the confidence of a lion about to pounce. His dark-rimmed eyes sparkle, a devastating contrast to his white blond hair. He’s glowing, beautiful, and for the next hour, he’s going to be giving Taekwoon the best sex of his life.

That thought, coupled with the man's appearance, makes his breath catch and he loses his grip on the door. It clicks shut behind him and he tenses for a moment. This is really going to happen now.

Ravi wastes no time and pushes Taekwoon back against the door, immediately latching his lips onto his neck, and Taekwoon doesn’t know why he’s so surprised. He’s a paying customer. Of course Ravi’s going to make sure he gets his money’s worth.

He draws in a shaky breath at the feel of Ravi’s lips trailing over his skin and his lungs are filled with the scent of him, something clean and masculine without clinging uncomfortably in his nostrils. He gulps in another breath, eager for more of it.

Ravi's hands wander his torso. "You kept me waiting," the man breathes against his neck and his voice has Taekwoon's knees knocking. He had no idea it would be so deep. It rumbles in his chest, rough with desire, thick with mischief, and Taekwoon’s body seems to vibrate with the intensity of it.

A small part of him tries to make sense of Ravi's words, wondering if he'd been lingering outside in the hallway for much longer than it seemed, but the bigger part, the part currently entranced by the man ravishing his neck, swallows it.

"S-Sorry," he stammers, voice weak in comparison.

Ravi chuckles against his skin. "I'm sure you'll make it up to me." His voice seems to have sunk an octave lower if that’s at all possible, and the suggestion in it has the most delicious thrills shooting up Taekwoon's spine. He really has hit the jackpot.

Warm, deft fingers flutter beneath his shirt and he shivers as they brush against his sensitive belly. Ravi pulls back to look into his eyes as he _slowly_ lifts his hands, fingers teasing his skin all the way up, and Taekwoon barely has enough sense to lift his arms.

Ravi’s eyes are filled with a desire so intense it’s like he’ll soon be driven mad by it, a hair away from being consumed. The emotion is a shock to Taekwoon. It feels so real. It’s like Ravi really has been kept waiting, as if he's been anticipating Taekwoon's arrival since he made his appointment three weeks ago. It has Taekwoon’s head spinning.

His shirt is discarded without a second glance, the item of clothing holding no interest for Ravi now that it’s out of his way, and the man presses a hand to Taekwoon's chest, sliding it down his torso, down, until it cups him firmly between his legs. With a shaky inhale, he lets his head loll back, eyes closing, before two fingers hook into his belt loops and tug him further into the room. Ravi stops when the back of his knees hit the bed, fumbling with Taekwoon’s belt and zipper in his haste, before shoving his jeans down to his thighs. Taekwoon manages to regain enough awareness to kick off his shoes.

He’s happy Ravi is so eager to have him naked but he would prefer it much more if the man took off his own clothes.

As soon as Taekwoon is left in just his boxers, Ravi hooks his hand around his neck and uses his weight to make them fall back onto the mattress. He turns his head to the side, baring his neck, and pulls Taekwoon's face down to his skin.

Taekwoon is nervous, and slightly confused, by the position. In his form, he'd said he wants Ravi to be dominant, but what with the way he’s allowing Taekwoon to get comfortable between his thighs, it seems he’s gearing for a different approach. Perhaps he’s just going to make Taekwoon ride him instead?

For the moment, he just settles with tentatively kissing Ravi's neck as the man had done to him, flicking his tongue against the skin.

Ravi hums and Taekwoon can feel the vibration against his lips, making his breath catch.

But then Ravi speaks, breathless. "I can't wait for you to fuck me."

Taekwoon feels as if he's been hit over the head.

"W-What?" He pulls back as far as their position on the edge of the bed will allow and stares down at Ravi in shock.

The man props himself up on his elbows, equally confused. "I thought you wanted me to bottom." In contrast to the way he'd been speaking so far, his voice is suddenly perfectly composed.

Realisation slaps Taekwoon in the face and he flushes to the very depths of his soul. He must have misread a section on the form! He'd ticked the box thinking it meant where he wanted to be. Now it makes sense why Ravi has been acting the part of a man wanting to dominate from the bottom.

"I-I w-wanted you t-to... me." He’s unable to say the word as freely as Ravi had, especially in the wake of his blunder.

Ravi's lips twitch in amusement as he stares up at him, but his professional mask slips back into place before it can become outright laughter as he probably so wants. And Taekwoon reminds himself that that’s exactly what it is, a mask. He’s shaping himself to Taekwoon’s specifications, aiming to please, and he mustn’t forget that.

Ravi grabs Taekwoon's hips and flips them over, carrying him up the bed until his head hits the pillow. His heart hammers at the sudden display of strength.

"Then that changes things," Ravi murmurs into his ear, grinding his hips down in a single, sensual roll.

Taekwoon has to clamp his lips together against a strangled whine.

"So, it's you who can't wait to be _fucked_ by me." He rocks his hips forward with more force as he says it, and the way he stresses the word with an almost-growl shows that he noticed how Taekwoon had been too shy to say it himself. Something tells him Ravi isn’t going to forget.

Regardless, Taekwoon whimpers in acknowledgment, squeezing his eyes shut at the shameful sound.

The heat of Ravi against his neck disappears and he feels the man place a knee either side of his hips.

He grips Taekwoon's jaw in one hand. "Look at me," he orders and Taekwoon's eyelids flutter open immediately. Ravi’s eyes sparkle, pleased with his compliance. His hand releases Taekwoon's face and he trails his fingers down his neck and abdomen before leaving Taekwoon's body and gripping the hem of his own top.

He peels the clothing over his head, finally showing Taekwoon what’s beneath the collarbones, what all of his photos had been careful to tease at but never display. Well-defined abs ripple as he stretches his arms up and Taekwoon’s cock is suddenly straining against the confines of his boxers. Because _this_ is what he wanted. _This_ is what he'd been dreaming about. But, of course, the reality is so much better than the fantasy.

When he looks up, he finds Ravi has been watching him and his cheeks flare with heat. The man has only grown more smug beneath the attention, allowing Taekwoon to look his fill and then leaning down to press their chests together and stretch his legs out behind him with an almost mesmerising roll of his hips. A promise of what’s soon to come. Taekwoon's stomach flips.

"Undress me," Ravi whispers, his lips brushing the soft skin below Taekwoon’s ear before moving down past his jaw.

Taekwoon tackles Ravi's bottoms with trembling hands, trying to get a hold of the waistband. It doesn’t help that Ravi's hips just won’t stay still, continually undulating against him. It’s making Taekwoon's breath come in short gasps. Ravi's mouth twists against his neck, enjoying Taekwoon's distress. Once he's finally eased the clothing down Ravi's hips, the man shimmies out of them with minimal help from Taekwoon, each kick of his legs making him buck teasingly against him.

When they hear the rustle of fabric hitting the floor at the end of the bed, Ravi moves his lips from Taekwoon's neck and down his chest, fingers hooking beneath his boxers as he descends. He swirls his tongue into Taekwoon's belly button as he eases the material down his thighs, and when he’s finally naked, Ravi's abs brush against the head of his cock as he moves back up his body. Taekwoon quivers beneath him, but it's nothing compared to the full body shudder that ripples through him when Ravi reaches over to the bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lube from the drawer.

Ravi spreads Taekwoon's legs wide, gaze travelling down his body, over the curve of his throbbing cock and down to his entrance. Taekwoon doesn’t miss the way Ravi's tongue flicks out to wet his lips and his hole quivers at the thought of feeling the wet muscle plunge deep inside, swirling as it had at his navel. He’s brought back to reality when he hears Ravi pump some lube onto his fingers and he shivers when the cool liquid hits his skin.

Ravi sighs in what Taekwoon can only describe as pure bliss as he slides his finger inside Taekwoon's tight heat, keeping his eyes fixed on his face.

Taekwoon has to look away. His back is arching off the bed and his breath is coming in sharp gasps as he brings the back of his hand to his mouth to try and stifle a whimper when Ravi's finger curls expertly inside him. He bucks his hips, pushing them down into the mattress as Ravi stretches him open, twisting the digit deliciously slow each time he withdraws it to the tip before thrusting in with more and more force.

" _Please_ ," Taekwoon gasps, surprising himself with his boldness, but Ravi's teasing is unbearable and he needs more.

Ravi is kind enough to add a second finger but it isn’t the kind of _more_ that Taekwoon is begging for. And Ravi knows it, but going by the fascinated expression on his face, he’s having too much fun watching Taekwoon come undone beneath his touch to give him what he really wants - yet.

With two fingers, Taekwoon's legs start to tremble as they carefully work him open, and he can finally bring himself to watch Ravi's face through lidded eyes.

The man is starting to look almost feverish, a flush rising in his cheeks as he keeps his eyes fixed on the obscene view of his fingers disappearing into Taekwoon's pliant body. His chest rises and falls with his accelerated breathing and Taekwoon can just glimpse the head of his cock poking out from beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He throws his head back with a keening moan, lifting his hands to grip Ravi's shoulders. The fingers inside him still and he opens his eyes to see Ravi watching him, a wicked grin forming on his perfect mouth. He isn’t sure he’s going to like what’s coming.

"What do you want me to do now?" Ravi asks, his fingers remaining motionless.

Taekwoon whines and bucks his hips. Ravi knows _exactly_ what he wants him to do so why is he—

He realises with a gasp. He knew Ravi wouldn't have forgotten his earlier reluctance to tell him what he really wanted. Now he’s paying for it.

"Hmm?" Ravi encourages, slowly removing his fingers.

Taekwoon tries to steady his breathing, saying the sentence in his head, trying to force it past his unresponsive tongue.

_I want you to fuck me._

"I want you to... I want..."

"You want...?" Ravi's fingers leave him with a lewd _squelch_ and Taekwoon shudders, arching his back and squirming, all too aware of his entrance clenching desperately for something to fill it.

Ravi sits back and eases his boxers down, finally revealing his neglected cock, stiff and twitching. Taekwoon can’t take his eyes away as Ravi removes them entirely and gives himself a loose stroke.

"I want you to fuck me," he whispers, desperately, all but clawing at the sheets. "God, _please_ fuck me."

Immensely satisfied with the way Taekwoon is begging, Ravi leans over to the bedside table again and this time pulls a condom from the drawer. Taekwoon watches as he rolls it down his length, panting with desire and dropping his head back on the pillow when Ravi lines himself up and presses inside.

He shuts his eyes tightly and breathes as deeply as he can, willing his body to relax as Ravi eases himself back and then thrusts in deeper. When he’s fully sheathed, Taekwoon forces his eyes open to see Ravi's clouded with pleasure and dwindling control, and the expression goes straight to Taekwoon’s cock. He writhes against the mattress and Ravi lets out a filthy moan, sounding like the epitome of sex.

Taekwoon takes a deep, shaky breath and wets his lips before whispering, " _Go_."

Ravi doesn’t need telling twice. He rocks his hips back and then slams them forward and Taekwoon's back arches with a startled cry. One of Ravi's arms hooks under his left leg and lifts it, giving him better access as it settles in the crook of his elbow.

Ravi keeps that position for quite a while, rolling his hips in an irregular rhythm that has Taekwoon unable to catch his breath. First, he rocks into him slowly, sensually, then draws back as far as the head before thrusting forward as hard as he can, once, and then he moves as slow as possible. It’s like he’s experimenting with the sounds he can pull from Taekwoon's lips: first, encouraging moans, then a piercing scream, then desperate whines, pleading with him to move faster.

Ravi's mouth always twists smugly when it becomes the latter and _God_ he wants to kiss him. Which is really his only complaint. He wants to wrap his arms around Ravi's neck and mould their lips together, to find out if they taste as good as they look, but instead he has to settle with clutching the pillow either side of his head so as not to give in to the temptation.

It doesn’t take long until he’s close to coming and Ravi can see it. He lowers Taekwoon's leg and squeezes his cock at the base. "Not yet, kitten. You come when I tell you to."

Taekwoon mewls at the order - and the pet name - and tosses his head, his orgasm so close. And then Ravi begins to pump Taekwoon's cock, a contrast to his previous words, and Taekwoon whimpers. Ravi hasn't told him he can come. He has to hold it back. If his whines had been desperate before, now they’re urgent.

Ravi's hips don’t let up even for a second but Taekwoon can see the cracks beginning to form in his composure as his own all but shatters.

"Please, _please_ , I can't—"

And then Ravi's pace stutters like he can feel Taekwoon beginning to tighten around him and he leans down to grunt in his ear. " _Fuck_ , Taekwoon. Come for me," he pants.

Hearing his name in that gravelly voice has Taekwoon's cock growing in Ravi's hand and spurting pulses of come between them with a strangled scream.

Ravi props himself up above Taekwoon with one hand as the other continues to milk his cock for all he has, and after a few short snaps of his hips, his body stiffens with a shout and Taekwoon is sure he can feel him throb inside him as his release fills the condom. Ravi's position gives him a glorious view of his face as he comes, his eyelids fluttering shut as his eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent scream. Dazed, his eyes trail to Ravi's abs that have become even more defined as they tighten with his orgasm. It has a short whine sounding in his throat and his spent cock twitches against his stomach.

Ravi's chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and he reaches down to keep a hold of the condom as he pulls out. He rolls from the bed to dispose of it and Taekwoon just stares at the ceiling, feeling spectacularly boneless. He's had boyfriends before, he’s had sex, but it’s never been like that.

When Ravi returns, he crawls onto the bed with an almost feline grace, peppering kisses all over Taekwoon's neck. He sucks softly when he finds a patch of skin that makes Taekwoon twitch, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

"Tissues are on the bedside table. You've got five minutes." And then Ravi is gone, leaving Taekwoon shivering in the cold breeze in his wake.

He opens his eyes and looks to Ravi lying on the other half of the bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. Taekwoon realises it’s not dismissal but to give him a bit of privacy. Cleaning himself up as best he can, he slides his clothes on slowly once he's retrieved them, already sore. When he's finished, he hovers at the side of the bed for a moment, taking his final chance to soak in the view.

"Um... thanks," he says awkwardly, not quite sure what to actually say in this situation or if he even needs to say anything at all.

Ravi opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, still gloriously naked and shining with a light sheen of sweat. He regards Taekwoon with a small smile playing about his lips.

Taekwoon flushes when he can’t keep his eyes from scanning Ravi's body one last time.

Ravi doesn’t speak and Taekwoon takes it as his cue to leave.


	3. Chapter 3

When Taekwoon arrives at the department store where he works the next day, it’s with ginger steps and he’s glad to step onto the escalator. Ravi hadn't been particularly rough with him, but it’s still been a while since he's been with someone and he’s probably enjoying the memory echoing in his muscles more than he should.

He ascends to the third floor and makes his way to the back left corner to the tailoring department where he works with Hakyeon. Hyuk had told them both about his own first appointment but Hakyeon had declined his offer to take him too. When Hakyeon falls upon him with a flurry of excited questions before he’s even hung up his coat, it seems he's settled with living vicariously through Taekwoon instead. Hyuk would probably be there too, smirking smugly in the corner, if he didn’t work on a different floor in a different department.

They both have to start work before Taekwoon can describe it fully, so he answers Hakyeon’s questions as best he can while they pretend to straighten the reams of fabric lining the walls out on the shop floor. It was difficult enough to believe it had even happened as soon as he’d stepped out of that bedroom, lit like it was evening, into a bright afternoon outside. Now he’s a night removed, it feels even more like a dream, Ravi’s voice in his ear and breath on his neck and his hypnotic gaze coming in flashes that are already a jumble.

He doesn’t go into too much detail. There are parts he wants to keep to himself, like the things Ravi had said, that pet name which has ruined kittens for him for life, and he definitely doesn’t want to tell him about the form mix up. The sniggering would last for days. It’s bad enough remembering that flicker of amusement Ravi had let shine through.

Despite Taekwoon's building reluctance to divulge specifics, Hakyeon seems more than satisfied with the answers he receives, though their conversation is cut short by a pointed clearing of the throat and disapproving stare from a senior member of staff. They hurry to separate, but not before Hakyeon can leave Taekwoon with one last question.

"Are you gonna go back?"

It makes him pause. Is he willing to spend the money? More importantly, will he be able to resist?

For the rest of the day, he can’t pull his thoughts from inside that bedroom, going over the expressions on Ravi's face, his voice, the way he'd moved. Whenever he pictures the way Ravi had looked when his orgasm hit, it’s always accompanied with him tugging at his collar and taking a deep, shuddering breath, trying to cool down.

Despite the hour he'd spent with Ravi being an amazing memory, he’s starting to feel like more and more of an idiot. He'd actually fallen for Ravi's acting, believing that he'd been enjoying himself as much as he'd seemed. It’s only now that he’s thinking of the way Ravi's character had changed so smoothly, from his eagerness to be on his back to the embodiment of a predator when he realised the mistake in Taekwoon’s requests. And that doesn’t even begin to cover the way he’d snapped to perfect composure between the two, his voice so easily losing its breathless edge as Taekwoon’s mistake came to light. He'd had absolutely no effect on him at all.

Taekwoon knows he has no reason to feel so crestfallen. He was a paying customer so Ravi had just been doing his job to please him. That’s all there is to it. And who knows how long he’s been doing it for? His body is probably so disciplined when it comes to sex, it would take a lot to break through that exterior.

Taekwoon sighs past the pin between his lips and the client whose suit he’s in the process of fitting gives him a nervous glance. He's already nearly stabbed the man three times so far and he can’t guarantee that he’ll continue to miss. He smiles as reassuringly as he can but immediately goes back to brooding as soon as the man looks away.

Hakyeon catches his eye from behind a mannequin he’s busy dressing and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. He's been doing it all day, and despite his current phase of disappointment, Taekwoon can’t help but smirk back.

He reaches for the pin between his lips but his absent mind has made him clumsy and it slips from his fingers. Kneeling to pick it up just conjures thoughts of what it might be like to kneel for Ravi and the image of it is so vivid, he almost gasps and fumbles once more with the pin.

He wants to feel the weight of him on his tongue, the ache in his jaw, be the one to give Ravi pleasure, to watch his face twist in ecstasy, to make him be the one to collapse, boneless, on the mattress.

It’s with a shudder that he realises all of that could become a reality. All it would take is a single phone call. He almost can’t wrap his mind around the idea of paying to perform the service instead of paying to receive it, but then he remembers that it’s Ravi and he’d gladly pay for the privilege.

He dwells on that thought for the rest of the day and his concentration takes a nosedive from its already shaky state. Hakyeon can barely stifle his giggles when Taekwoon accidentally sews the leg of some trousers shut, and when filling out a customer's appointment card, he stares unseeing down at it for so long that Hakyeon has to forcibly tug the pen from his hand and take over. It’s a miracle he didn’t do something like start doodling hearts on the page (or anything more incriminating of his thoughts). But filling in the details of the customer’s appointment - the time, the date - had thoughts of an appointment of his own consuming every available ounce of concentration. Any restraint he may have pretended he had is crumbling before his eyes.

It’s so bad that Hakyeon even offers to give him a ride home, not trusting him to not step out into traffic. He declines, knowing the walk will give him a chance to clear his head, but he needs a cold shower as soon as he gets home that just ends with him pretending his hand is Ravi's, clinging to the memory of the rumble of his voice zinging down his spine.

He’s barely stepped out and gotten a towel around his waist before he’s retrieving the card he'd been given from its place on his nightstand.

He needs to see him again.


	4. Chapter 4

Taekwoon has to wait another three weeks for his next appointment. He probably could have gotten it sooner if he'd changed the day, but for better or worse, Wednesdays already mean Ravi and this was the closest open slot.

When he’d dialled the number to book it, he hadn’t thought about how excruciating it was going to be to speak to someone and detail his requests out loud, but he discovered there was an option to use an automated process, typing in numbers to select all of his choices. His order had been read back to him in the voice of a robotic woman, and after declining the option to make any additional comments, he had to wait a minute or two until his price was calculated and he could pay. Overall, it was a whole lot less painful than what Hyuk had dragged him into by doing it in person.

The wait for his first appointment had been torturous with the onslaught of nerves, but this time it’s balanced by anticipation that just builds like a fever the longer he waits. He’s still nervous when he arrives for it, but this time there’s excitement fluttering in his belly. He knows what he’s going to find upstairs and he’s had enough of waiting.

His experience from his arrival up to being handed his key card is exactly the same as the last time, except he’s greeted by a woman instead. The golden 3 glints in the lights of the corridor as he exits the lift, and when he approaches the door, his hands are trembling. He may have made his requests, but that doesn’t mean Ravi will be predictable. The first appointment had gone above and beyond what he’d been expecting, and Ravi has already shown he knows exactly how to drive Taekwoon crazy. What might he have to look forward to this time?

Inside, the room is exactly the same, but this time Ravi is waiting for him on the bed, laying on the left side with his hands behind his head, just as Taekwoon had left him at their last session. He could almost pretend Ravi hasn’t moved while waiting for him to return if he wasn’t fully clothed, this time in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Taekwoon can’t be too disappointed. He'll be naked soon enough.

Ravi crawls across the bed when Taekwoon lets the door swing shut behind him, elegantly sliding from the mattress to his feet to pounce and push Taekwoon against the door, just as he'd done last time. Taekwoon knows he should be embarrassed by the satisfied sigh that escapes him when Ravi’s lips trace a path down his neck, but he’s too busy rejoicing in the sensation of Ravi's body against his to care. He wants to whine when Ravi steps back.

"How do you want me?" the man asks, somehow already close to panting, hands at his belt. Taekwoon knows the edge to his voice isn’t real, but just hearing it again, feeling those deep vibrations down to his toes, has his knees trembling.

"Edge of the bed," he replies after a long breath. "Naked," he adds, face hot.

Ravi steps backward until the back of his knees hit the bed, an eager smile on his face. He strips slowly, muscles rippling as he brings his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. Taekwoon’s heart beats faster at the _clink_ of his undone buckle as his jeans slide past his hips and then they’re followed by his boxers, revealing his half-hard cock swelling between his thighs. He sits on the mattress, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs slightly, inviting Taekwoon to settle between them.

He sinks to his knees, his cock already an embarrassingly hard line in his jeans, and he tries to stop his hand from shaking as he lifts it up and holds it towards Ravi’s mouth. Ravi’s eyes sparkle as he takes hold of his wrist, leaning closer to lick a wet stripe across Taekwoon’s palm and up his fingers. When he pauses at the end to suck one of his fingers into his mouth to the knuckle, Taekwoon almost chokes on nothing. Ravi smirks around the digit, pulling back torturously slow and flicking his tongue against his fingertip like he might the head of Taekwoon’s cock. He pulls off his finger with a pop, lips glistening, and it takes everything Taekwoon has not to rear up and kiss him.

He settles instead with wrapping his fingers around the base of Ravi's cock and giving him a few slow, tight strokes, his saliva easing the way. His own cock throbs at the sensation of Ravi growing even more beneath his palm. Ravi tilts his head back, an appreciative sigh sounding past his lips as he basks in the attention.

Sadly, the fantasy is broken when Ravi reaches over to the bedside table where a condom is waiting. Taekwoon is disappointed even though he guessed it was coming. He'd allowed himself a few dirty fantasies during the wait for his appointment, ones where Ravi fills his mouth with come and pulls back to have it dribbling down his chin, a final spurt decorating his cheek. But if this is all he can get, he'll take it.

They roll the condom down together, Taekwoon making the mistake of looking up to find Ravi watching him intently. The man lifts his hand to press his thumb to Taekwoon’s bottom lip, like he’s anticipating how it might feel stretched around him. When he lets go, Taekwoon swallows hard and then, because Ravi never wastes any time when it comes to him, he returns the favour and engulfs Ravi's cock as far as he can.

In his fantasies, Ravi is always vocal, showing him just how much he’s enjoying it because he knows that's what Ravi would do even if he wasn't. Ravi doesn’t disappoint. He tangles the fingers of one hand in Taekwoon's hair with a shout, hips bucking, and he eventually lies back against the bed, thrusting up gently into Taekwoon's mouth as his other hand tangles in his own white blond hair.

The urge to touch himself is almost unbearable but Taekwoon loves the tease. He loves the feel of his cock twitching and straining at the material of his jeans and he loves the feel of Ravi's cock pulsing in his mouth even more. The string of moans and curses falling from Ravi's lips go straight from his ears to his own throbbing cock and a particularly hoarse cry when Taekwoon pulls back to tongue at the slit as best he can through the condom has Taekwoon whimpering around him. It spurs Ravi to lift his head to look down at him with half–lidded eyes and lips bitten cherry red.

"You like that, kitten?" he asks, breathlessly, giving a sharp jerk of his hips that nearly has Taekwoon choking. "You like having your lips stretched around my cock?"

Taekwoon whimpers once more, taking Ravi in as far as he can in response. Ravi hisses, throwing his head back again, and it isn’t long before he’s using the hand in Taekwoon's hair to pull him off.

Taekwoon whines and Ravi chuckles.

"Such a slut," he murmurs, swiping his thumb over Taekwoon's bottom lip again.

Taekwoon shivers. For this man, he'd be anything.

"Strip."

The order hits Taekwoon like a strike across the face and he can only stare as Ravi scoots backward up the bed to rest against the headboard. The man raises a menacing eyebrow when he sees Taekwoon is still on his knees and has made no move to comply with the order. It has Taekwoon fumbling to obey. His shirt pools beside his feet as he stands and kicks off his shoes, and once he’s left in just his boxers, he meets Ravi's gaze.

"I didn't tell you to stop."

Taekwoon takes a deep breath as he slides the offending article of clothing down his hips, blushing when his straining erection springs free to show Ravi just what he does to him. It twitches in the cool air and precum oozes at the tip. He shivers as Ravi’s gaze rakes over him, his expression impenetrable.

Ravi's next command is even more of a surprise.

"Touch yourself."

Taekwoon's face grows even hotter as he processes the order but his hand seems to move of its own accord, his thumb smearing the bead of moisture over the head as he grasps himself loosely. Ravi's eyes are hooded, fixed on his hand as he pumps himself, and he can’t keep his own open.

"I didn't tell you to close your eyes."

Taekwoon whimpers and forces them open to see Ravi licking his lips.

"Perhaps I should make you prep yourself too…" he murmurs to himself, gaze trailing over Taekwoon’s body in contemplation.

Taekwoon whimpers again. "Please, no," he whispers, hand still sliding over his cock. He wants, he _needs_ , to feel Ravi inside him again.

"Come here," Ravi orders, beckoning him closer with the two fingers he'd used to stretch Taekwoon open during their last encounter.

Taekwoon crawls up the bed as Ravi retrieves the bottle of lube from the bedside table and hesitates until Ravi situates him with one knee either side of his waist. His heart pounds as Ravi's cock brushes against his lower back.

After pumping some lube onto his fingers, Ravi reaches beneath Taekwoon and circles a single digit around his entrance, teasingly pressing the tip inside and feeling his muscles eagerly welcome him. Staring directly into Taekwoon's eyes, he thrusts his finger in to the knuckle in one smooth motion. Taekwoon mewls and squirms, but Ravi doesn’t move.

"Ride it," he orders and Taekwoon's inner muscles quiver at the command. Going by the way Ravi's gaze darkens, he definitely felt it.

Taekwoon tentatively rocks his hips and groans when Ravi curls his finger with the motion. He does it again and Ravi's finger continues to arch with him and he tosses his head back, growing bolder with his movements. He’s eventually rewarded with a second finger.

"Good boy," Ravi encourages, voice husky with lust as Taekwoon cries out at the intrusion.

The praise has a fuzzy blanket of pleasure settling over his mind, separate to the pleasure of Ravi's fingers inside him, and his movements become more vigorous, eager to keep satisfying him. He lifts his hips, spine arching as he sinks back down, feeling as if Ravi's fingers are reaching deeper and deeper with every downward thrust.

"Such a good boy," Ravi repeats, rewarding him with one slow stroke of his cock from base to tip. "Such a needy slut. Aren't you?"

Taekwoon captures his bottom lip between his teeth as he whimpers his agreement, gazing down at Ravi through half-lidded eyes. Ravi's eyes are bright with hunger as he drinks in the view and it’s like a match being struck against Taekwoon's skin, setting him alight. He's never thought of himself as sexy before, but with the way Ravi is looking at him, he can almost believe it, that he’s a sinful temptation existing only for Ravi's pleasure.

He would have been content to continue like this until his hour is up but Ravi, of course, has other plans. He jabs his fingers up just as Taekwoon brings his hips down, directly glancing off his prostate, and it has Taekwoon's toes curling with a strangled squeal.

He falls forward, hands landing against the headboard either side of Ravi's head to catch himself which brings their lips bare centimetres apart. Time seems to hang suspended as he stares straight into his eyes. He can’t keep his gaze from flickering down, marvelling at his perfect, pillowy bottom lip and how incredible it might feel to kiss it. His stomach swoops when Ravi glances down at his, breath catching at the realisation that he seems to be thinking about it too. But then Ravi flips them over, withdrawing his fingers, and the moment is lost.

Taekwoon barely has time to take a breath before Ravi is pressing inside and his mind reels at the sudden penetration. Both of his legs are spread further apart and lifted into the air, allowing Ravi to sink deeper, and Taekwoon has no time to adjust before he begins to thrust into him with sharp rolls of his hips.

His toes curl and cries tear from his throat that he’s likely to be embarrassed about later, his eyes rolling back as he squirms. The pleasure is almost too much for him to take, bordering on delicious pain, and his hands scrabble for purchase on the headboard behind him. There’s nothing to hold onto so he has to settle with clinging to the pillow beneath him instead.

Even though Taekwoon doesn’t mind the rougher treatment, there’s something off about it. His previous session, along with the current one up until the near-kiss, had felt organic. Ravi had been playful, teasing him whenever a moment presented itself, but now, the pleasure has a cold, almost harsh, undertone and Ravi's gaze bores, unfeeling, into his.

Is it because of the near-kiss? Is Ravi angry, thinking he'd tried to initiate it on purpose? Taekwoon may have looked at his lips, _wanting_ to kiss him, but he never would have done it. He doesn’t know how it could be construed as anything but an accident.

When Ravi lowers one of his legs and wraps his hand around Taekwoon's cock bouncing against his stomach from the force of his thrusts, Taekwoon has no space left in his mind to analyse the situation. The pace with which he strokes him is almost punishing and Taekwoon begins to writhe; the pleasure may feel tainted, but it doesn't stop it blowing his mind. His orgasm is bittersweet when it slams into him and floods his senses, but Ravi doesn’t let up, continuing to drive inside him.

Taekwoon is beginning to whimper from overstimulation when Ravi's hips finally jerk, his back arching as he comes, once again allowing Taekwoon to soak in the perfect view. He collapses on top of him, panting against his neck, and he remains there for a few seconds before rolling them over so Taekwoon's head is against his chest, carding his fingers through his hair as if in apology.

Taekwoon shivers when Ravi's cock slips from inside him as it softens and he takes his chance to nuzzle against Ravi's neck. He doesn’t know how much time passes, too content to breathe in the scent of sweat and sex from Ravi's skin, before Ravi gently rolls him off.

"Five minutes." The man doesn’t look at him as he rises from the bed to dispose of the condom, nor when he returns, though Taekwoon can’t suppress a shudder when he catches sight of his own come smeared across Ravi's abs.

He moves slowly as he climbs from the bed and retrieves his clothes, already knowing he'll really be feeling it at work the next day, even worse than the first time.

"Bye," he says tentatively once he’s fully dressed and as presentable as possible.

There’s no smile from Ravi this time, barely even a glance, and Taekwoon shuffles to the door with a heavy heart.

What did he do wrong? Did the near-kiss really make him that uncomfortable? He almost stops to apologise, but the words lodge in his throat and he leaves without saying anything more. He just hopes whatever it was isn’t enough to warrant a ban.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> I’m just going to leave this gif here (this choreography came out after I wrote this and hot damn it fits perfectly to what I’d written when Ravi beckons Taekwoon onto the bed /swoons) 


	5. Chapter 5

The weekend passes and Taekwoon doesn't receive a phone call informing him of his membership being terminated. He knows that can only be a good sign, but he still worries they're just waiting for him to schedule a new session before taking the satisfaction of dealing the crushing blow.

That anxiety is the only thing that keeps him from booking a new appointment, because other than that, Ravi is all he can think about. Twice, he'd been given a glimpse past the character he wears to the real man beneath, first as amusement and second as displeasure. It just makes him wonder how he acts outside of that bedroom, outside of that building. How much of what he shows is natural?

When he starts wondering if Ravi thinks about  _ him  _ outside of that room at all, he realises he’s really got a problem. What exactly is he expecting to happen here? That this gorgeous man, a prostitute servicing probably at least a dozen other people, whose real name he doesn’t even know, is going to fall in love with him and eventually declare his feelings? He needs to get a grip.

"Taekwoon?"

He jolts from his daze and turns to one of his colleagues leaning his head out of the workshop. He'd been absentmindedly running his fingers through the ties hanging from a stand next to the counter, wondering which would best suit Ravi's white blond hair.

"There's a customer with an appointment at two o'clock to have his measurements taken. Hakyeon was supposed to deal with him but it's mayhem back here, so you'll have to take care of it."

"Okay. What's his name?"

"Kim Wonshik," his supervisor replies, before ducking back inside the workshop. The door swings shut behind him, blocking out the whir of what sounds like a dozen sewing machines which is quite alarming seeing as there are only two other employees working today. Hakyeon must really have his nose to the grindstone.

The arrangement suits Taekwoon just fine. He currently doesn’t have enough concentration to fill a teaspoon and he'll just get in everyone's way if he’s roped into sitting behind a sewing machine. Being left in charge of the shop floor away from anything he might inflict injury with is the safest task for him.

There are only fifteen minutes to go before the customer is due, so Taekwoon hurries to read Hakyeon's notes on the man’s material choices. Once he’s educated, he takes to wandering the floor, straightening fabric and mannequins as he goes.

He’s just making sure the alcove where the customer will be measured isn’t cluttered when he hears footsteps approaching the counter. Leaning his head around the wall, his heart skips a beat when he catches a glimpse of white blond hair between the displays.

_ Oh, stop it! _ he berates himself, hanging a tape measure around his neck.  _ Do you really think you're going to see him here? _

But then the customer turns his head to glance about the store in search of a member of staff and Taekwoon feels all of the breath leave his lungs.

Ravi's bronze skin seems to glow beneath the bright lights of the shop floor in comparison to the dusky light of the bedroom, and Taekwoon is dazzled by him all over again, stopping open-mouthed in his tracks. He isn’t wearing any eyeliner, opting instead for a pair of glasses with thick black frames, and his hair is unstyled, falling over his forehead. It brings out the sleepy shape of his eyes and that, coupled with his white hair, makes him look innocent and angelic. Taekwoon isn’t fooled. He can still picture, with utmost clarity, the look of unadulterated lust filling Ravi's eyes as he'd lifted his head to watch Taekwoon suck at the head of his cock.

It takes Ravi a moment to notice him, but when he does, he tenses and his eyes widen ever so slightly before his mask slams down over his face. Taekwoon's stomach sinks. For all of two seconds, he'd been allowed a glimpse of the man beneath.

He moves with deliberate steps to keep his knees from buckling beneath him and makes sure the counter is between them before speaking, needing something to support himself.

"Can I help you?" His voice trembles but he doesn’t think anyone could fault him for it.

Though Ravi is looking at him, his eyes are unfocused like he’s staring straight through him. Taekwoon can’t really blame him; this situation is hardly ideal.

"I've got an appointment."

_ Kim Wonshik. _

Taekwoon almost chokes. The revelation has a thrill running through him and he has to clutch the counter to stay upright.

"Um." He winces at his ineloquence and clears his throat. "I'll be the one taking your measurements today as Hakyeon is otherwise engaged. If that's okay?" His voice is barely above a whisper. He grips the ends of the measuring tape around his neck in both hands, squeezing so hard his nails nearly draw blood from his palms.

"I don't care." Ravi's voice is entirely void of emotion and Taekwoon tries not to wilt under his stare.

"Then, if you'd like to follow me..."

Leading Ravi into the secluded alcove has Taekwoon's heart thundering in his chest, imagination out of control as he considers drawing the curtains. All he can envision is Ravi having his way with him, pressing their mouths together to muffle Taekwoon's shameless whimpers, holding his hands above his head as he presses him to the wall or bends him over the waist-high cabinet or takes him on the floor. It suddenly becomes very difficult to keep from strangling himself with his measuring tape.

Thankfully, once he gets it in hand and begins to take Ravi's measurements, he can place all of his focus on the familiar task. It doesn’t stop his hands shaking when he has to measure his collar and he has to use all of his power to keep from gazing at his lips, so close for the taking. He hasn't forgotten how that ended last time, though he can't say he'd mind a repeat of that right now. 

He mentally shakes his head, trying to focus, but he falters again when he kneels to measure Ravi's inseam, racked by flashbacks of their time together a week ago. He licks his lips and freezes, praying Ravi didn’t notice.

Fingers tangle in his hair with a firm but gentle tug and Taekwoon gasps and looks up at Ravi in shock. He's already let go and is staring at the mirror ahead with no indication that he'd even touched him. Taekwoon wonders if he could have imagined it, so caught up in the fantasies inside his head, but then he climbs to his feet and catches a glimpse of himself in one of the other mirrors and sees his hair mussed on one side. His cheeks are pink too, evidence of his filthy imagination, and he avoids looking at Ravi as he smooths his hair back into place and jots down his last few measurements. With that finished, he invites him back to the counter, half relieved and half disappointed to have it separating them again.

After flicking through their appointment book, Taekwoon clears his throat. "We'll need to see you again in a few days for the first fitting. I can book you in on Friday at the earliest."

"Friday's no good. How about Saturday?"

Ravi's words have Taekwoon squeezing his pencil so hard he thinks it might snap. Is Friday no good because his time is already fully booked? Saturday is no good for Taekwoon because it’s his day off. He briefly considers lying about Hakyeon's availability but his mouth has already started to answer.

"Two o'clock?"

"Anything earlier? Ten?"

"Ten o'clock is fine. Do you need me to write that down for you?" Taekwoon asks, reaching for an appointment card.

"No. I'll be here."

"Okay. Before you go, we'll need you to make a down payment—"

Ravi already has his card out and hands it to Taekwoon between two fingers – the two fingers he'd been fucking himself on last week. Heat rises in his cheeks as he accepts it and he’s sure he doesn’t imagine the twitch of a smirk on Ravi’s lips.

It’s only when the transaction is complete that he realises Ravi must be absolutely loaded. To be shopping in this department store – and getting one of their suits tailored at that! Well... he doesn't know why he’s so surprised considering how much it cost for just an hour of his time. Maybe that sort of money could make the job entirely worth it.

"Is that everything?" Ravi asks when Taekwoon hands him back his card.

"Yes."  _ No. _

"Thanks." Ravi turns without another word or glance and strides from the department.

"Have a nice day," Taekwoon whispers as he watches his retreating figure. "Kim Wonshik."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating with two chapters today because these are kind of short!

Wonshik heaves a sigh and drops his forehead to his steering wheel. His journey from the tailoring department to the car park is a blur, with only vague recollections of other shoppers leaping out of his way in fear after just one look at his expression.

It’s not the first time he's run into a client in public but it usually results in averted eyes and nothing more. He's never had to exchange words with one and especially not in such an intimate situation. He’s glad the guy – Taekwoon or whatever his name is – had at least had the sense to keep his mouth shut, though that's hardly a surprise considering the state he'd been in back when they'd first met, trembling like a leaf and lips already bitten red.

Wonshik had wondered how Taekwoon was going to muster the confidence to fuck him when he didn't even have the initiative to remove his clothes. It had all made perfect sense when his blunder had been revealed. If Wonshik had thought he'd been red in the face when he arrived, it was nothing to the pretty flush spreading down his neck then.

At their second meeting, Wonshik had been surprised Taekwoon's timidity had allowed him to request to suck his cock, though he can’t deny it gives him a thrill to know Taekwoon’s need to be on his knees outweighed whatever humiliation he’d probably felt at asking for it. The man is such a nervous little flower. Thinking back, Wonshik should have made him voice the request aloud. He’s sure the heat of humiliation in Taekwoon's cheeks would have been a sight to behold. Next time, perhaps.

He had wanted to jokingly ask if Taekwoon had got his booking all correct the second time, but it would have gone against the regulations in place that require them to act as if each encounter with a client is the first. It won’t do to foster familiarity; that will just lead to clients growing attached and mistaking the sex for something more than just business.

Though, saying that, Wonshik has already broken that rule concerning Taekwoon by calling him ‘kitten’ more than once. It had been totally unplanned and is a pet name that he's never used before, but he can’t deny that it suits Taekwoon perfectly, with his sharp eyes shaped just like those of a feline. Well, it doesn't matter because he won’t be doing it again.

Wonshik manages to sit up and put his key in the ignition but his head flops back against the headrest, eyes squeezing shut as an echo of panic sweeps through him, the same panic that had made his stomach clench when he’d spotted Taekwoon just now and realised he wasn’t a customer but an employee.

For a moment, he'd considered leaving, but the idea of running away had put his back up. He’s never been ashamed of what he does and he isn’t going to start now. Of course, that doesn't mean he's happy that Taekwoon now knows his real name. Wonshik winces, but what's done is done.

In all, the appointment had been relatively painless. Taekwoon had been professional enough, except for the way he’d been staring shamelessly at Wonshik’s crotch when he’d gotten on his knees, his tongue even coming out to wet his lips. That’s why Wonshik had caved to his instincts and tugged on his hair, unable to resist just a  _ little _ bit of teasing. The man made it way too easy. Wonshik had regretted it immediately though, knowing full well the sort of thoughts it would conjure in Taekwoon’s head. It’s so obvious that he’s totally captivated by him. Wonshik almost pities the poor guy.

Absently, he reaches for his seatbelt, mind caught up in wondering what sort of requests Taekwoon might be brave enough to ask for at his next session. He’d bet every penny in his bank account that by this time tomorrow, Taekwoon’s name will have appeared in his schedule.

With one final incredulous sigh, he finally starts the car. He isn’t looking forward to returning for his fittings but, if all goes as planned, he'll be back with the other employee for all of his future appointments and won’t need to deal with Taekwoon again – in public, at least.

With that problem nipped in the bud, all he has to do in their subsequent sessions is make sure the  _ k _ word doesn’t slip past his lips. Though, picturing Taekwoon's skilful pink tongue makes him realise that’s going to be easier said than done.


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as Ravi disappears from sight, Taekwoon spins around with the intention of bursting into the workshop and grabbing Hakyeon by the shoulders to shake the life out of him, when he remembers that his friend won't be the only witness. He instead has to settle with feverishly pacing the shop floor for the next two hours until Hakyeon finally emerges. He doesn’t need to speak for Hakyeon to realise something’s wrong.

"What's up with you?"

Taekwoon grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him close to whisper. "The customer I dealt with for you." A part of him wants to request to take over Ravi's suit, but the other part knows that’s the worst idea he's ever had.

"What about him?"

" _Ravi_ ," he breathes, that single word the only explanation he can manage.

"The guy with the white hair?" Hakyeon asks incredulously.

Taekwoon nods.

" _He's_ the…?"

Taekwoon nods again and Hakyeon raises his eyebrows and whistles, impressed. "Maybe I'll come with you next time and have a go myself!" He throws Taekwoon a cheeky grin but quails under the thunderous glare that he gets in return and hurries to add, "Hey, it was just a joke!" He holds up his hands to placate him.

Taekwoon looks at the floor, his cheeks hot from the rush of anger and the beginnings of shame for reacting in such a way.

"You know, Taekwoon... he isn't your boyfriend. He's having sex with God knows how many men."

 _And women_ , Taekwoon adds in his head, stomach twisting with misery.

"I think you might be getting too attached," Hakyeon finishes, gently.

Taekwoon blinks. _Is_ he getting too attached?

Does he even care?

Reaching for his membership card later that night, he realises the answer is no. No he doesn’t. Even though he _knows_ Ravi is with other people, even though he _knows_ Ravi isn't his, even though it’s driving him _absolutely crazy_ , just getting to share even an hour of his time is enough.

He does his best to ignore the part of his mind that pipes up to ask _but for how much longer?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added quite a bit extra to the smut in this chapter so I hope you enjoy it lol

After another three excruciating weeks with no more encounters with Ravi at work, Taekwoon slides his key card into the door that leads to what he can’t help thinking of as Ravi's bedroom.

The man is already inside as always, standing at the foot of the bed as if he's been pacing back and forth waiting for Taekwoon to arrive. He’s wearing a plain grey sweatshirt and red plaid pyjama bottoms, his feet bare once more against the fluffy rug, and a part of Taekwoon wants to just snuggle under the covers with him for the next hour instead. But then he catches sight of the look in Ravi's eyes – the usual look of eager desire – and he decides that snuggling can wait until after.

Once again, Ravi pushes him against the wall, though this time he’s much rougher, and his lips against Taekwoon's neck are like a drug. For the first time, he manages to keep enough focus to actually lift Ravi's sweatshirt over his head and push his bottoms down his thighs, his breath catching when he discovers he's wearing nothing underneath. Ravi works to remove Taekwoon's clothes in record time.

"Bed. Hands and knees," Ravi orders huskily in his ear when they’re both naked and Taekwoon hurries to comply, pleased to see the bottle of lube already nestled against the covers. Not only has he been indulging in a few fantasies of the position, but he’s also been hoping it might help to put Ravi at ease if the near kiss from their previous encounter really had been the reason for his change in character. He doesn’t want anything to ruin it this time.

It’s only when he’s on his hands and knees, facing the headboard with his cock already heavy between his thighs, that he notices the clock on the bedside table. His stomach drops, realising that’s how Ravi always knows just how much time is left. He probably always has one eye on the clock whenever they’re together, never giving Taekwoon his full attention. The new position he’s in means Ravi doesn’t need to sneak glances and he can instead freely count down the minutes until it’s over.

Taekwoon's spirits dip but it doesn’t last long. Ravi climbs onto the bed and presses himself against his back, shifting his hips so his cock nestles in the cleft of Taekwoon’s ass. He rocks against him and Taekwoon shivers and arches his back.

He sees Ravi’s hand reach for the lube from the corner of his eye but he's distracted by his lips at his neck, trailing down to his shoulder blade as Ravi draws back. A sharp slap lands on his ass and Taekwoon’s yelp turns into a drawn-out moan, his knees spreading wider on the mattress, and he’s sure he feels Ravi’s lips curve against his skin.

“I thought you might like that,” he murmurs, and Taekwoon shivers at the idea of him wondering what else Taekwoon might like.

A fingertip slippery with lube rubs over his entrance, teasing and tugging at the rim and then tracing little circles around and around and around until Taekwoon is mewling. When Ravi finally presses inside, it’s with two fingers at once and Taekwoon moans long and low, head dropping between his arms. He rolls his hips back and the quiet groan sounding behind him lets him know that Ravi appreciates it. Taekwoon does it again, wanting to do whatever he can to please him. Ravi curves his fingers in reward and Taekwoon cries out with a delicious shudder. It feels so much better than when he tries to do it to himself.

He shivers as Ravi dribbles more lube over his hole, fingers withdrawing only to press it inside, and it feels so deliciously filthy, dripping down over his balls. A third finger eventually joins the first two and Ravi twists them inside him, making Taekwoon’s toes curl. He feels sloppy and used, and he can’t help imagining for a moment that it’s Ravi’s come inside him, that he’s pushing it back in with his fingers every time it tries to trickle out, and his eyes snap open, gasping. He stops that train of thought immediately, knowing he’ll come in seconds if he keeps thinking about what that would really be like.

A disappointed sigh escapes his lips when Ravi's fingers disappear, but knowing what’s coming next more than makes up for the tease.

He shuts his eyes as he listens to Ravi prepare the condom, then drops his head as he begins to press inside, wishing he could catch a glimpse of his cock stretching him open. Ravi's hands grip his hips as he begins to thrust, bouncing Taekwoon back against him, regularly changing the angle. He keeps his thrusts steady once he finds a delicious position that has unintelligible cries tumbling from Taekwoon's lips. He leans down to Taekwoon's ear as he continues rocking into him.

"What's that, kitten? You want more?" he asks, already husky voice even rougher with lust.

Withdrawing so only the very tip of his cock remains inside, he places a hand on each of Taekwoon's shoulders and slams forward, a scream tearing from Taekwoon’s lips. He does it over and over, pulling out ever so slowly, allowing Taekwoon to catch his breath before filling him with a single, powerful thrust that has him writhing on Ravi’s cock. He's never been fucked so hard before, Ravi using his grip on his shoulders to pull him towards him as he drives inside, and Taekwoon is incoherent with pleasure.

Just as he thinks his elbows are about to give out, Ravi releases his shoulders and wraps an arm around his waist, pulling Taekwoon's torso upright until his back is pressed to Ravi's chest. He stills inside him, gently kissing and sucking at Taekwoon's neck to give him a quick reprieve from the punishing treatment. One of Ravi's hands curls around his cock, easing it up and down as his other arm stays wrapped around him.

“You’re always such a good boy for me, Taekwoon,” he whispers in his ear, and Taekwoon cries out, hand flying up to tangle in Ravi’s hair.

He’s so close. Ravi must sense it because he releases Taekwoon’s cock, but all it would take is for Ravi to call him a good boy again and he’d be coming untouched. This has never happened to him before. He’s never been so attuned just to someone’s voice that they’ve had this sort of hold over him.

“Are you close, kitten?” he asks and Taekwoon whimpers.

He screws his eyes shut, nodding.

Ravi takes his earlobe into his mouth and sucks gently, pulling back with a wet pop. “Not yet,” he whispers.

Then he begins to move again, this time with the most sensual, graceful motions, the gentlest rolls of his hips, and Taekwoon's spine arches as he rocks slowly back against him. It’s such a contrast to the way Ravi had been fucking him just now that Taekwoon can’t catch his breath, his head spinning. What had been cries and shouts have turned into blissful gasps and contented sighs and Ravi's hand returns to his cock with slow, sensitive strokes.

His orgasm which had been ready to boil over has lost its urgency, but it still simmers, radiating outwards, building and building. He’s unravelling, losing all sense of who and where he is, and his fingers tighten where they’re still in Ravi's hair. He turns his head so their lips are barely an inch apart, needing something to hold onto to try and ground himself, and with his other hand, he clutches onto Ravi's still at his waist, tangling their fingers together as tears prick at his eyes. Ravi squeezes in return and doesn't let go.

He keeps moving at the same pace and Taekwoon is so close to hitting his peak but  _ not yet, not yet, not yet, _ echoes in his head. Soon, it’s all too much.

“Ravi,” he warns breathlessly, and Ravi’s hips jolt, his punched-out groan sounding in Taekwoon’s ear.

Staccato, gasping moans start spilling from Ravi’s mouth with every thrust after that and it’s those sounds that finally have Taekwoon teetering on the edge of orgasm.

“Please please please,” he begs, desperately, and Ravi’s hips falter.

He turns his head to pant in Taekwoon’s ear. "Come for me, kitten."

Taekwoon convulses at Ravi's pet name for him with a sound close to a sob. His cheeks are wet, not only a result of the power of his orgasm, but also because his heart aches knowing he isn't the only person that Ravi calls that.

Ravi reaches completion a second later with the most delicate moan in Taekwoon's ear, a sound so different from his usual grunt, and he wishes he could see the expression on his face.

He lowers Taekwoon to the mattress and rests on top of him without pulling out; Taekwoon is glad as it means he can hide the tear tracks on his cheeks. Ravi's weight is comforting and warm despite the already cooling sweat slicking Taekwoon's body and he wants to stay there forever.

Slow kisses are placed all over his shoulder blades until Ravi touches his tongue to Taekwoon's spine and lazily drags it down as he pulls out and disappears to dispose of the condom. It has Taekwoon's back arching with a whine.

He reaches up to quickly wipe away his tears in Ravi's absence, shivering, feeling suddenly empty and alone.

When Ravi returns, he lays on the other half of the bed as usual and awkwardly clears his throat. "You've still got thirteen minutes. Is there anything you want me to do?"

Taekwoon hesitates. At any normal time, he'd have a whole list and would jump at the chance to make requests. However, after... whatever that just was, all he wants is to be with him, however foolish that sounds. "No," he finally answers. "Can we just... stay here?"

"Yeah."

Taekwoon turns his head to stare at Ravi lying next to him, tracing every inch of his body with his eyes. He’s so beautiful Taekwoon actually feels it like a physical ache. His gaze comes to rest on Ravi's hand nearest him and he hesitates for a moment. Steeling himself, he reaches out to clasp it in one of his and turns his head away, waiting for rejection. Surprisingly, Ravi doesn't shake him off, but nor does he hold him in return.

Taekwoon pushes it for as long as he can, his eyes fixed on the clock. At five minutes to go, he waits for Ravi's warning, but it doesn't come until a minute later.

"Four minutes," he whispers.

Taekwoon can’t bring himself to let go just yet and he waits, like hitting snooze on an alarm. He reluctantly releases Ravi's hand at three minutes to go and sits up, cheeks burning as he looks down at the mess he’s made of the sheets.

"Sorry," he says quietly and Ravi studies the stains with a quick, proud twitch of his perfect mouth.

"Don't worry about it," he reassures him, but when their eyes meet, he looks away and leans back to put his arm over his face.

Taekwoon continues to study him as he cleans himself up, body flushing with heat and the desire for more as he wipes up the excess lube which has dripped all down the backs of his thighs. Once he’s dressed, he pauses at the door and looks back. He wants to say something but has no idea what. Ravi lowers his arm and they stare at each other for a moment, before the clock strikes the hour and Taekwoon has no choice but to leave.

As he plods down the corridor to the lift, there’s a tugging in his chest as he realises that with each subsequent session, his encounters with Ravi are getting stranger and stranger.


	9. Chapter 9

At work the next day, Taekwoon is glad to be left alone in the workshop. It gives him time to brood and replay his last encounter with Ravi over and over, analysing every second of the session. There’s so much bouncing around inside his head that he’s not sure where to even start.

What exactly had Ravi meant when he said _I thought you might like that_ after spanking him? Was it a thought that had struck him in the moment or had he been thinking about Taekwoon outside of their sessions?

And what about the way he’d reacted when Taekwoon had called him by his name? It’s the first time Taekwoon has actually called him Ravi when they’ve been together and it was like he’d lost control for a moment, his hips jerking as if caught off-guard by it. And the sound he made…

Though it was nothing compared to the sound he made when he came. Taekwoon can’t stop hearing an echo of it, shivering at his phantom breath against his ear. It had sounded so effortless compared to his usual grunt - a sound he's realising Ravi must make just to please his client - and he wonders if he'd actually broken through Ravi's composure and affected the man beneath.

He knows that’s too good to be true. More likely than any of that is that it’s all just a carefully crafted ploy to wrap Taekwoon even tighter around his little finger.

Despite that voice of reason, he’s still wondering what it could have meant that Ravi had warned him his time was coming to a close at four minutes to go instead of his usual five. It wasn't as if they'd been doing something that would make him lose track of time. If anything, he should have been more aware of it than ever, counting down the seconds until Taekwoon would be forced to let go of his hand.

Taekwoon gives himself a shake. He’s being ridiculous. Ravi was probably so bored out of his mind forced to lay there with him that he'd started to fall asleep. It had just been one minute of delay. There _is_ no significance to it. He just needs to let it go.

With an almighty sigh, he lowers his forehead to his desk but quickly jumps up when the door to the workshop swings open. Thankfully, it’s just Hakyeon.

His eyes are bright with excitement, ready to hear all the juicy details of his latest encounter, but it clouds over with concern at a single glance at Taekwoon's expression.

He's unable to give him in depth details, too mortified to reveal that the only phrase he can think of to describe the sex is _making love_. His face floods with heat just thinking it, but what else had it been? Just remembering the way they'd tangled their fingers has tears pricking at his eyes. It's been so long since he's had that kind of intimacy with someone that he'd almost forgotten what it's like.

Despite his attempts to downplay it, Hakyeon is no fool.

"Taekwoon..." Hakyeon hesitates, trying to choose his words. "I don't think you should go back." He looks Taekwoon dead in the eyes when he says it and Taekwoon can see how serious he’s being, true concern plain on his face. "This infatuation... It's not good for you."

He can't hold Hakyeon's gaze, realising, with a painful twinge in his chest, that Hakyeon is right. He'd be a fool to make another appointment. He's been enough of a fool already.

Since this latest session, he's beginning to realise that he’s been feeling more and more hollowed out, like he’s been losing a part of himself with each subsequent appointment. He’s been using his time with Ravi as a substitute for the real relationship that’s been missing from his life, foolishly clinging onto a vain hope that it might become something more.

Because it isn't as if he actually knows anything about him. He found out his real name by pure chance but, other than that, there’s nothing past Ravi's physical self that he can say he likes. All he really knows is that Ravi has a great body, an even better face and is mind-blowingly good in bed. It’s just lust. To act as if he’s developing feelings for a façade is nothing short of ludicrous. Juvenile.

And how could Ravi have grown attached to him in return? Having sex is his job. Taekwoon is just another money bank for him to beguile and toy with so he'll go crawling back for more. That’s the only reason for all the tenderness in their session yesterday. It’s humiliating to realise that it had actually worked.

He nods and Hakyeon places a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Taekwoon gently shrugs him off, unable to meet his gaze. He turns back to his sewing machine, shoulders slumped and heart aching. He hates that he’s been made to feel this way, and hates even more that he only has himself to blame. He never should have gone back, never should have gone in the first place. But then he remembers Ravi, the magnetism in his photos and how special it felt to be in his presence, and a part of him wonders if it was inevitable that he’d find himself here.

His heart aches as he realises his time with Ravi has ended, that he’s never going to see him again. A humourless smile tugs at his lips as he wonders how long it will be until he caves, but that thought just sends a flare of anger through him. Is this really what he’s been reduced to? Is he really this weak?

Strangely, the anger feels good and he clings on tight, drawing power from it. It gives him the strength to sit up and straighten his shoulders, reminding him that he’s better than this. Bit by bit, his resolve hardens, and by the time his head hits the pillow that night – membership card shoved to the back of a drawer – he can say with confidence that he’s not going back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst angst~~


	10. Chapter 10

Wonshik has had enough. This is his day off, a time where he’d usually enjoy a vigorous workout, followed by a long, luxurious soak in the tub and then have the whole day to put his feet up in front of the TV and think about absolutely nothing.

Instead, there’s a constant flow of restless energy buzzing through him that a stint on his treadmill and lifting weights couldn’t burn off, and his time in the bath had lasted all of five minutes before he couldn’t stand being stationary any longer. No matter what he does, there’s an itch under his skin that nothing can scratch and the fact that he knows exactly what the cause is just burns like acid in his stomach.

Three months, _three whole months_ , since Taekwoon's last appointment.

 _And counting_ , a traitorous voice in his head points out.

Wonshik grits his teeth and snatches up the rest of the strawberries he’d been preparing, dumping them into his blender and gladly twisting the knob to the highest setting. He tilts his head back, basking in the clamour assaulting his ears and the way it drowns his thoughts into silence. But the noise only gives him a reprieve for so long. Too soon he has to turn it off and he ends up sitting at the island, stabbing at his drink with a straw and resisting the urge to check his month’s schedule for the seventeenth time that day. Taekwoon’s name will come up eventually. He just probably doesn’t have the cash, that’s all. In a few weeks he’ll be back, as eager and submissive as ever.

But what if he isn’t?

Wonshik shakes his head. They always come back. _Always_. He's never lost a client, not even those that have gotten married since using him. They can never give him up. So what makes this Taekwoon guy think he’s so special? Who does he think he is, using him three times and then vanishing like the wind?

Amongst his simmering irritation, an unspeakable thought occurs, one that makes his blood run cold: what if Taekwoon is going to someone else?

Wonshik scoffs, beating down the nagging worry. Impossible. The man is absolutely taken with him. _Or had been, at least_ , he thinks, with a sour twist to his mouth.

No. There can be no past tense about it, not when Taekwoon had cried during their last session together. The man had tried to hide it but Wonshik hadn't missed the tear rolling down his cheek as he tightened around his cock, or the way he'd wiped his eyes when he left him on the bed. He’d nearly come just from Wonshik’s voice in his ear alone, for crying out loud. There’s no way he’s moved on to someone else.

Wonshik’s face grows hot thinking about that last session which just makes his anger spark even brighter; he _never_ gets embarrassed.

But what the fuck had he been doing? Whispering in his ear, holding his hand, calling him _kitten_ \- three times! - even though he'd sworn never to do it again. And he only ever moves that slow to tease the client into insanity, never to bring them to the edge and rock them tenderly over it. But in that moment, it hadn’t only been Taekwoon’s pleasure he was thinking of, for once giving in to what made himself feel good.

And oh, it had felt good. He hasn't had an orgasm like that in a long time. Not since... well... has he ever had an orgasm like that? It was like he’d been at a level of sensitivity he’s never felt before, affecting him in a way he can’t explain. It was just _more_ , of everything. And it had only intensified when Taekwoon called him by his name.

Just being reminded of it has him grinding his teeth. His other clients use his name all the time, sometimes repeating it over and over like they think it does something for him, when really it lost that power a long time ago. There’s no reason for hearing it from Taekwoon’s lips to affect him like that, especially when it’s not even his real name.

Why is he being so dramatic about this?

Wonshik abandons his drink and is on his feet without even realising it, pacing back and forth across the wide-open space that makes up the living area of his entire apartment, coming to a stop at the floor-to-ceiling windows that span two of the walls. He watches the traffic speeding by below but he’s unable to hear it from so high up and it just seems to heighten the silence surrounding him.

This isn’t like him at all. He’s always drawn such a clear line between his work and his private life and it’s been no effort to keep it that way. So why is it beginning to blur now? Why is it Taekwoon who’s bleeding over? Why does excitement simmer in his blood every time he thinks about what the man might request when they next meet? Each time, he gets a little dirtier, a little braver to ask for what he really wants, and Wonshik loves watching that fight between his embarrassment and his desires and seeing the latter always win out.

Just thinking of it sends a shiver through him, and he digs his nails into his palms as his cock begins to stir.

He’s thinking about their last session again, how it had felt to fuck him hard and deep, the way he’d begged to be allowed to come, that sound he’d made when Wonshik had spanked him. He’d wanted to strike him again and again until his skin was blushing pink and he was a sobbing, writhing mess, but that hadn’t been part of his requests for the session and going off script could have landed Wonshik in trouble if it turned out to be something Taekwoon didn’t actually want – no matter how unlikely that sounds.

He’d hoped that one strike would have planted the seed for him to actually request it next time. Nothing hardcore. Just something playful, another way for Wonshik to tease him and make him blush and murmur _good boy_ in his ear. For him to find out how it would feel to have Taekwoon’s inner muscles clenching down on his cock as he lands a strike.

Three months on with still no sign of him and Wonshik can safely say that plan backfired.

Does Taekwoon even realise what a fucking tease he is?

Wonshik heaves a sigh and looks down at his erection tenting his sweats. This has gotten so wildly out of hand.

He flops onto his white leather sofa, sprawling out on his back on the plush cushions, and stubbornly pillows his hands behind his head. He isn’t going to give in. He’s not going to come thinking about Taekwoon until he’s got him face down on a mattress and is balls deep inside.

 _Who knows when that will be._ That traitorous voice is back.

Wonshik grits his teeth, fingers tightening behind his head.

 _Soon_ , he tells himself. _Any day now_.

_And if he doesn’t?_

That notion has Wonshik pursing his lips.

If he doesn’t, the time will come for some very drastic measures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhh this one was hard. It went through so many permutations that I think it’s virtually unrecognisable from how the original chapter looked. I hope you think it’s an improvement!


	11. Chapter 11

Three more weeks go by with no Taekwoon and Wonshik can’t take it anymore. He can’t take another day of double- and triple-checking his schedule in the hope Taekwoon’s name will appear and he can’t take another day of this unquenchable need that Taekwoon has stoked in him. When he woke up yesterday morning lying on his front and rutting his hips against the mattress, he knew he’d reached the final straw.

So here he is, at Taekwoon’s place of work like the desperate mess he is, about to break his all-important rule of never discussing his work with anyone as soon as he steps foot outside of it. He’s lost a customer, and if this is the only way to rectify it then so be it.

He thinks about when he saw Taekwoon here last, about the lust in the man’s eyes that he hadn’t been able to hide, and he realises he’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t even care if Taekwoon makes an appointment or not. He doesn’t care if money’s involved. If all Taekwoon will agree to is a quickie in a bathroom stall, he’ll take it.

Even just thinking that makes Wonshik’s pride shrivel in agony, but he had to choke enough of it down to even be here in the first place, so why not swallow a little bit more?

He already practiced what he’s going to say in front of the mirror this morning to make sure his face, as well as his voice, remain nonchalant and not like his entire existence hinges on the response.

"I haven't seen you for a while." He whispers it to himself as he steps onto the lift, vowing not to lose his nerve, and presses for the third floor of the department store. The middle-aged woman sharing the lift throws him a concerned glance and shifts further away from him. Wonshik ignores her and looks himself over in the mirrored walls, smoothing his hands down the lapels of the suit he’s wearing. It’s the one he had fitted here a few months back which flatters his body in ways he never knew a suit could. He isn’t wearing a tie and has an extra button undone to better show off the hollow at the base of his throat, and he can’t wait to see what Taekwoon’s expression might look like when he lays eyes on him.

When the lift doors open, he allows the woman to pass first with a gracious sweep of his hand, then strolls leisurely towards the tailoring section, revelling in the curious glances of the other shoppers. He knows his demeanour and his clothes and car and apartment all give off the vibe of an heir to some sort of corporation, next in line to be CEO. If only they knew the source of his income. He wonders, with a barely repressed smirk, if they'd be so quick to desire him as a match for their daughters then.

He nears the tailoring department and his heart begins to pound when he spots Taekwoon not far from the counter, passing between two mannequins. Wonshik’s pace quickens unconsciously and he comes to a halt a few metres away when the man notices his approach.

Seeing Taekwoon's face has a strange wave of serenity rushing through him, a reprieve at last from the emotional turmoil of the last few months. It’s easy then, to let the persona Taekwoon knows so well to take over, to pin him with his gaze and let an alluring smile tug at the corners of his lips. His hair has been styled to perfection, his eyeliner painstakingly applied, and Taekwoon looks like he doesn’t know what’s hit him. His eyes are wide, his inviting mouth open in a gasp, and Wonshik is immensely satisfied by the reaction, as if it’s somehow beginning to make up for all the torture he's been forced to endure. That is, until Taekwoon darts past the counter so fast he’s no more than a blur and disappears through the door behind it.

Wonshik’s smile slides from his face, any gratification he felt at Taekwoon’s expression crumbling to ash. He thinks his mouth might even be hanging open, unable to process what just happened.

He’s quick to smooth it away when a voice comes from his right.

"Can I help you?"

He turns to see the man who had fitted him with his suit, the name on his badge reading _Hakyeon_. Wonshik opens his mouth, intending to book an appointment for a fitting with Taekwoon specifically, but the words won’t come, whether because of what little pride he has left or a sudden fluttering in his stomach, he can’t tell.

"You don't have what I'm looking for," he says instead, enraged by the sensation in his belly.

"That's too bad."

He’s taken aback for a moment by the man's bluntness. As an employee of this store, he should be doing all he can to meet Wonshik's needs but instead, his attitude is bordering on rudeness. It only takes a second for Wonshik to realise this guy must be a close friend of Taekwoon's and that he must know exactly who Wonshik is. The man’s eyes are hard and unwavering as if willing him to leave, not backing down even when Wonshik matches his hostile gaze.

Wonshik lets a smile of jeering amusement curve his lips at the man's courage, but inside he’s seething. This guy has some nerve.

With a derisive snigger, he turns on his heel and saunters from the department, even more agitated than when he arrived.

Why had Taekwoon reacted in that way? Why doesn’t he want to see him? Either Wonshik has done something wrong - which he finds hard to believe with all the evidence to the contrary - or Taekwoon really has started going to someone else for his needs and is probably too embarrassed to face Wonshik with the truth of it. His hands ball into fists and it takes a colossal effort not to spin on his heel and go marching back over there to burst into the backroom and force the truth out of him - and if he’d require a little _encouragement_ , Wonshik would be all too happy to oblige.

A part of him is hoping his presence might be enough to remind Taekwoon exactly what he’s been missing, inspiring him to make an appointment like it had the last time he’d seen him here and tangled his fingers in his hair.

If there’s still nothing by this time tomorrow, he’ll have to return and spring an ambush that gives Taekwoon absolutely no chance to hide from him. And he knows exactly how to do it.


	12. Chapter 12

Taekwoon listlessly wanders the shop floor, sick of the lethargy that’s been plaguing him for the past few months but powerless to do anything about it. He keeps telling himself that he just needs to ride it out, that it will pass eventually. That one day soon, Wonshik won’t be the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up.

Since he made the decision to not see Ravi anymore, he's taken to referring to him as Wonshik whenever he thinks about him – which is, sadly, all the time. Knowing that personal piece of information has leant a touch of realism to his fantasies, something that he wouldn't have been able to achieve if his real name had remained a secret. It had been too dangerous to use it before in case the wrong name slipped out when they were together, but there’s no chance of that happening now. At least, that’s what he'd thought until Wonshik made his surprise appearance last week.

It had been torturous, seeing the sparkling eyes and playful smile that had always meant Taekwoon was in for a treat, knowing that wasn't what he was actually here for. And that’s nothing compared to the suit he’d been wearing. Taekwoon still can’t decide whether to give Hakyeon a gift basket or wring his neck. Though, he supposes Hakyeon had done him a favour by dealing with Wonshik, so maybe he’ll hold off on inflicting injury for now.

The irrational part of himself regrets that he’d run away, but he knows it was for the best. Just seeing Wonshik’s face was bad enough. If they’d exchanged words and Taekwoon had heard his voice, he probably would have just dropped to his knees in the middle of the shop floor and begged him to do whatever he wants with him. Just the memory of the vibrations it used to send through him sends a shiver down his spine, and he’s been plagued by at least a hundred variations of that very same fantasy in the past week alone.

He wonders if this is how recovering addicts must feel, itching for his next fix and trying to ignore that he has the money to buy it. All it would take is a single phone call and his suffering would be over. Or at least sated for an hour. The membership card in his bedside table at home feels like a tangible weight on his mind, and he would have burned it to ash already if it wasn’t for the fact that he has the number memorised.

In an attempt to take his mind off picking up the phone, he’s spent most evenings sprawled on his bed three fingers deep and muffling his moans into a pillow, imagining Wonshik’s voice murmuring in his ear, the things he might say at seeing him like that. He knows it sounds counter-intuitive, but it’s the only thing that’s been keeping him sane.

 _Look at you, spreading yourself open and wishing it was me._ Taekwoon can hear it now, how reverent he’d sound and, whether he really meant it or not, Taekwoon knows how special it would make him feel. He knows he’d spread his legs a little wider, eager to please him, and maybe he’d hear an appreciative moan, or maybe feel Wonshik’s fingers ghost over his inner thighs, but he knows for certain Wonshik would reward him with the exact praise he wants to hear:

 _Good boy_.

Those two words have been haunting him since his last session with Wonshik, reliving the memory over and over of trembling on the edge of orgasm waiting for him to say them just once more. It never fails to send a wave of heat through him to know Wonshik knows exactly what they do to him.

Taekwoon gives himself a shake and swallows hard, reminding himself that now is not the time for those sorts of thoughts. He needs to stay alert. If Wonshik decides to come back, he can’t be caught daydreaming or he might end up being the employee forced to serve him and that will be the end of all his hard work to stay away. With today being Hakyeon’s day off, he needs to be extra vigilant.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and casts his eyes across the shop floor, ready for any flash of white. Realistically, he knows Wonshik won’t be back, at least not this soon. Hakyeon said they didn't have what he'd been looking for.

Taekwoon sighs heavily, tugging on the sleeve of a mannequin that doesn’t even need straightening. The only customers he can see moving amongst the aisles and clothes rails in that moment all have dark hair, so he has nothing to worry about.

A few times, he’s caught a sudden glint of white out of the corner of his eye only for it to be the sun shining through the skylights and reflecting on mirrors in the next department over. It happens now, and his heart jumps into his throat. He manages to swallow it down, wondering how long it will take for him to get over this. He shakes his head and turns back to the mannequin but nearly leaps out of his skin when a black-haired customer steps out from behind it. He doesn’t have a chance to laugh off his embarrassment because his eyes lock with the man’s and he can no longer breathe.

Despite the man’s hair colour, the impish smile twitching his lips as he stares down at Taekwoon is unmistakable and all Taekwoon can do is gape up at him. Inky black and glossy in the overhead lights, Wonshik’s new hair couples with his smoky eye makeup to give him the look of some sort of dark angel sent from the devil to tempt him. And he can’t escape.

"I'd like to book an appointment." Hearing the distinctive rumble of Wonshik's voice has his eyelids fluttering. His knees tremble, like it really has become a Pavlovian response to submit to him.

 _Me too._ Taekwoon has to bite his lip hard between his teeth to keep from saying it out loud.

"I'll j-just get someone t-to—" he begins instead, but Wonshik is having none of it.

"I'm sure you can manage." Wonshik’s gaze travels from Taekwoon’s eyes all the way down his body and back up and Taekwoon’s brain short-circuits, his excuses tangling on his tongue.

Wonshik slips by him, brushing so close Taekwoon can feel the heat he radiates, and heads towards the counter. Taekwoon’s feet follow of their own accord but he’s quick to put the counter between them both as soon as possible.

He takes a deep breath, resigning himself to his fate. "When would you like it?" he manages to ask.

"Are you free now?"

Taekwoon glances down at the appointment book, about to place his hand over it with the intent of hiding his empty schedule, but Wonshik grabs his wrist and leans over the counter. Taekwoon’s breath catches at the sensation of Wonshik’s warm skin against his and he stares down at the fingers wrapped around him, already knowing this is going to fuel a few fantasies involving Wonshik pinning his hands above his head. He jerks his arm back and hopes that whining sound hadn’t come from him.

"Oh, look at that! Free all afternoon." Wonshik’s eyes glitter with amusement, all too pleased with himself for foiling Taekwoon’s obvious plan. "That means I can have your full attention for the rest of the day."

The rest of the _day?_ Just how long is he expecting choosing his materials to take?

Taekwoon stiffens when Wonshik reaches up and grabs either side of the tape measure around his neck, pulling him over the counter towards him.

"Do you need to take my measurements again? I think you missed one last time," he asks, lowering his voice to a whisper at the end with a suggestive twitch of his eyebrows and a downward glance.

Taekwoon tugs the tape measure from Wonshik's hands with a startled squeak and straightens up. "We've g-got them on file," he stammers, his cheeks on fire at the innuendo and the fact he could probably recite _those_ measurements from memory alone.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Why is Wonshik acting like this? The last time Taekwoon had dealt with him in this setting, he'd been frosty and distant, indicating without words that he wouldn't tolerate Taekwoon showing even an ounce of familiarity. But now here he is, hands all over him like they’re at Wonshik’s place of work, not Taekwoon’s. Just what is he playing at?

Taekwoon clears his throat, attempting to slip into professional mode. "Where will you be wearing it? Is it for business or a certain occasion?"

"Business."

Taekwoon wonders what sort of business Wonshik could be referring to but doesn’t question it. "And what about the colour?"

"Grey."

Taekwoon nearly groans out loud with longing. That’s the colour he would have chosen for him himself, especially now he has this new dark hair.

"Follow me," he says, leading him to a section of reams of fabric lining the walls in different types and shades of grey. "As we're getting into autumn you'll probably want to go for a medium weight, so these are the types you should take a look at," he explains, patting the nearest ream.

Wonshik comes to stand beside him, leaning an elbow on one of the fabrics. He remains silent for a few long seconds, staring at Taekwoon instead of the material.

"I haven't seen you for a while."

Taekwoon jolts at the straightforward statement. Is Wonshik seriously asking him why he hasn’t booked an appointment to have sex? He has no idea how to respond, staring at him instead like a deer in headlights, and Wonshik's mouth sours.

Turning away from him, Taekwoon tries to take a deep breath to calm his thundering heart but the last few minutes have his head spinning almost out of control. He needs to get away and shore up what little composure he has left before he can continue.

With the excuse that he needs to fetch a new book of fabric swatches that arrived last week, he hurries towards the workshop. He’s so flustered he doesn’t notice the footsteps behind him until it’s too late and Wonshik has shut the door behind them both.

Taekwoon takes a step back. "What are you doing? Customers aren't allowed in here." He tries to sound authoritative but his voice trembles. His eyes dart frantically about the room, and he can’t decide if he’s relieved to find they’re alone or even more anxious. If someone else were here, he might be able to get out of this unscathed, but it would also raise questions that he’d rather not answer, first and foremost being how he knows this man.

Wonshik doesn’t answer, just keeps advancing on him, and Taekwoon can’t deny the thrills sweeping through him. This situation is falling in line with a few of the many new fantasies he’s had involving Wonshik, ones where he swoops in to tell Taekwoon that he misses him, needs him, doesn’t work without him, where Taekwoon admits to feeling the same and Wonshik answers with a tender, passionate kiss. He can’t stamp out the part of him that’s curious to find out what the man has in mind.

Wonshik grabs him by the shoulders and spins him round to push him against the wall beside the door, lifting one of Taekwoon's hands to his mouth to engulf his index finger all the way down to the knuckle. Taekwoon's breath stutters as Wonshik looks at him with wide, innocent eyes, cheeks hollowing as he sucks. It takes Taekwoon straight back to their second session when he’d had Wonshik lick his hand just before he’d given him that blowjob. It takes an embarrassing amount of effort to bring himself back to the present.

"What are you doing!" He somehow manages to muster some indignation and snatches his hand back with a wet slurp that does _not_ have his cock twitching in his pants.

"Giving you a freebie," Wonshik answers, quirking an eyebrow like he thinks Taekwoon is a simpleton.

"I don't want a freebie!" he squeaks and Wonshik quirks a smile, leaning in close to whisper.

"Then you can pay me for it."

Revulsion shudders through him at the proposal as Ravi’s hands reach for Taekwoon’s fly, along with outrage and misery. Since meeting him, all he's dreamed of is the man desiring him in return, but now, just as he’s foolishly thinking that maybe Ravi could be experiencing the same pull, his longing is instead cruelly mocked. He'd vowed he wasn't going to pay for Ravi to humour him ever again, so how dare he waltz in and trample all over the effort Taekwoon has put into forgetting about him? He’s trembling once again, but now it’s with rage.

Mustering force he didn't know he had, he shoves Ravi away and draws back his hand, slapping him full across the face. The _smack_ seems to echo, Taekwoon’s heavy breaths the only thing breaking the silence in its wake. He speaks in a voice like ice.

"Get out."

Ravi keeps his head turned from the force of the strike but Taekwoon can see his eyes are wide with shock and disbelief.

"I don't want to see you here again," he continues when Ravi doesn’t move. His eyes slide out of focus and his voice sounds as if it's coming from far away. He’s only distantly aware of just how much he’s shaking.

The shock on Ravi's face fades to be replaced with hurt that isn’t just physical. It has Taekwoon's resolve wavering, the beginnings of regret starting to well inside him, but it’s too late.

Ravi turns to look at him, his fists clenched and eyes now aflame, and Taekwoon would have recoiled from the fury in them if his back wasn't already against the wall. He’s expecting to be struck in return and closes his eyes, waiting for the blow, but instead he hears the door. His eyes snap open in time to watch Ravi disappear through it before it closes behind him with an almighty slam that he won't be surprised to learn people two floors below could hear.

His heart is hammering in his chest and he brings his hand up to press over it like he needs something to hold it in. His finger is still shining with Ravi's saliva, cold now in comparison to the heat and velvet press of his tongue, and it’s a perfect reflection of the hollow numbness he feels in the wake of his evaporated anger. He hurries to the bathroom at the back of the room to wash his hand under scalding water.

He stares at himself in the mirror, at his pale face and quivering lips, at the tears in his eyes. Ravi’s look of rage is still boring into him, the expression seared onto the backs of his eyelids, and it paints over every memory he has of him, over every smile and moan and word of praise. Despite all the times he’s tried to tell himself he knows nothing about him and can’t have developed true feelings, his heart is still breaking.

With Taekwoon’s refusal to book another appointment and no chance of Ravi returning here again, that image is all he has left of him. It’s incredibly cruel that this is how it all had to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the end of this chapter ended up being 300% angstier than the original lol whoops ^^;


	13. Chapter 13

Wonshik storms through the department store, his cheek on fire and throbbing with the beat of his rage. People stop to stare as he stomps past, probably at the red handprint that must be taking up half his face. He’s breathing heavily, trembling with fury, and he has to clench his fists to keep from grabbing each and every shop display and tearing them down, smashing them on the floor.

He heads for the escalators, too agitated to have the patience to stop and wait for the lift, needing to keep moving, needing to channel his aggression – preferably by punching Taekwoon in the face, but he knows he’ll just do something else he’ll regret if he goes back there.

When he reaches his car, his shaking hands drop his keys before he can unlock it and his bellow of anger echoes between the concrete pillars.

" _FUCK!_ "

A woman with her two young children quickly reaches out to cover their ears as best she can, pulling them close and giving him a wide berth as his narrowed eyes follow her path across the car park. Once she’s gone, he snatches his keys from the ground and tries his best not to take his anger out on his car.

Outraged doesn’t even begin to cover how he’s feeling right now.

He’d offered Taekwoon what he so clearly wants, so how _dare_ he act as if he’s disgusted by it when he'd been gagging for it all those times before? Had _paid_ for it all those times before? Why is he suddenly up on his high horse, acting like Wonshik is some sort of common whore to be spat on?

The urge to punch him sweeps through him again, and as he holds on to the feeling, it starts to turn into an image of revenge instead, a fantasy he’s thought a lot about in the past few months of waiting for Taekwoon to come back to him, a form of punishment that, for Wonshik at least, would taste like nectar.

He wants Taekwoon to make an appointment and book a fucking blowjob. He'd give him the performance of his fucking life. Sweet, sweet torture. He'd bring him to the edge, over and over and _over_ , until he’s begging and pleading and _writhing_ and can’t remember his own name before he _maybe_ lets him come all over himself. They'd see who’s so superior then.

Honestly, whether he requested a blowjob or not, Wonshik would be tempted to ignore that fact and live out his revenge fantasy anyway. But of course, that would require Taekwoon to make an appointment in the first place, and his silence when Wonshik had mentioned that he hasn't seen him for a while has an obvious meaning: he has been by. Just not for him.

The idea that Taekwoon thinks there’s someone who’s able to fuck him better than Wonshik can makes his blood boil. It turns to ice in his veins when a thought he’s never considered before occurs to him. With how nervous Taekwoon had been at their first session, he’s always assumed that it was his first time there. But what if Wonshik wasn’t his first? What if he’s his third? Or his fifth? Or even his tenth?

He squeezes the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. It’s like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach, all of his anger and the heat it had brought draining out to leave him hollow.

Why does that thought even bother him so much? It doesn’t matter if Taekwoon used some of Wonshik’s colleagues before coming to him. All that matters is whether he comes back to Wonshik for all of his future needs.

No matter how many times he repeats that in his head, the emptiness in his stomach doesn’t fade, and for a long while, all he can do is stare blankly out the windscreen. It’s a long while more before he’s in a fit enough state to drive.

 

* * *

 

"What happened to you?"

Wonshik glances at Hongbin, one of his colleagues, as the man saunters by and sinks into the chair beside him.

He’s sitting in the ground floor changing room, getting ready for his evening client by applying some makeup to attempt to cover up the swelling Taekwoon had given him as best he can. He’s glad to know it feels worse than it looks.

"Fuck off," Wonshik mutters, but Hongbin just laughs, his breathtaking smile and charming dimples showing why he’s a client favourite. A part of him wants to ask Hongbin if he’s ever been booked by a Taekwoon, but the bigger part of him recoils from that thought like he would from a flesh-eating spider.

"Was it a street brawl? Or a lover's tiff?"

Wonshik snorts. _Lover's tiff?_ What does Hongbin take him for?

"Hmm... too tame for a brawl. Must have been a lover," Hongbin muses after leaning in for a closer look.

Wonshik slams the compact mirror he’s holding onto the table in front of him and spins around to face Hongbin, fists clenched.

Hongbin smirks. " _Definitely_ a lover."

"Have you got a death wish?" Wonshik hisses, and Hongbin giggles but he at least has the sense to keep his mouth shut.

Picking up the mirror, he applies the finishing touches to his cover-up and then stares at his reflection in the larger mirror ahead, tilting his head to assess his work.

"So what is it really?" Hongbin asks.

Wonshik throws him another glare in answer and Hongbin rolls his eyes.

"Not just that. You've been acting weird for months now."

 _Acting weird?_ Well, Wonshik has to at least give him that. When’s the last time he's gone to visit a client outside of work, _twice?_

"So?" Hongbin prompts.

Wonshik huffs. "I lost a customer," he mutters.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Wonshik snaps, already regretting confiding in him. "A customer stopped making appointments!"

"So?"

Wonshik wants to throttle him. " _So,_ it's irritating!"

"What's so special about this one customer?"

"Nothing's special about him. I've just never lost one before!"

Hongbin stares at him, bewildered. "Er... yeah, you have."

Wonshik blinks. "No, I haven't!"

"Yes. You have."

"Who?" Wonshik demands.

"I don't fucking know. What about that woman with the hairy mole on her shoulder who hopped about all the time before settling with Jaehwan? Or the guy who always booked the bathroom for threesomes? No one's seen him for ages."

Wonshik stares at him, jaw falling slack.

"Mhmm." Hongbin smirks and leans in close to loudly whisper, " _Someone's got a crush_." He hurries out of Wonshik's reach like he's expecting violence, but that’s the last thing on Wonshik’s mind.

His eyes have slid out of focus, Hongbin's words echoing in his head. _A crush. A crush._

He shakes himself and laughs, ignoring that it sounds just a little bit too shrill.

A _crush?_ That’s not what this is. He just wants to fuck the guy again, that’s all. It’s not a big deal! There’s no way in hell, no _fucking_ way that he could have a _crush_ on the docile kitten.

 _No way_.

He repeats those two words to himself all the way to his next client's requested room.

Of all the rooms to pick, his next customer _had_ to have chosen the bedroom. Wonshik's stomach sinks as soon as he steps inside, unable to ignore the part of him that’s anticipating the customer to be Taekwoon. It's almost laughable. Plenty of customers have chosen to have him in this room, so why has he started associating it with _him?_

 _Crush_.

Wonshik shakes his head violently. Damn Hongbin for dropping that on him at the worst possible moment!

A beep from the door indicates the card has been inserted and from that point on, Wonshik is somehow able to mostly let the troubled part of his mind fade into the background, though he can’t help but curse the choices the client has made on his form.

He tries not to huff as he’s pushed down on the bed and spread open. In his current state of mind, he wants to be the one doing the fucking to let out some of his pent-up anger, which is typical considering being asked to bottom is only an occasional occurrence. A lot of his clients are usually women or closet homosexuals looking for something their wives can't give them, so for this to be requested of him of all days… He stifles another sigh.

What’s even worse about the situation is that the man has stopped him touching himself, holding Wonshik's hands either side of his head, and he lets out a curse that he can thankfully disguise as a cry of pleasure. He has to come before the session is over or the client can complain and get a partial refund, but there’s no way that’s going to happen if his cock continues to be neglected, his stamina much too high for this man to handle. But time is almost up.

He shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, opening his mouth in an act of bliss and using his imagination to take him to his happy place: tight heat wrapped around him, riding him, or a mouth around his cock, Taekwoon sucking him like his life depends on it, his pink tongue lapping at the slit like a kitten asking for milk—

Wonshik's eyes snap open with a gasp then flutter shut again as his back arches and his body stiffens with his orgasm.

The man above him stills with a low grunt a second later and when Wonshik eventually opens his eyes, he’s staring down at the come streaking Wonshik's abs.

"What would happen if I tasted you?" the client asks, mesmerised as it slowly trickles down his skin.

"You'd be banned," he answers flatly, eyes still half-lidded from lingering bliss.

The man looks like he’s actually considering it for a moment before he rolls off of him with a sigh.

Wonshik is disappointed. He would have loved to have been able to flip out and cause a scene and have the guy escorted from the building by security, something, _anything_ , to relieve the agitation pounding in his ears.

He shuts his eyes until he hears the door open and close a few minutes later, then the rage boiling inside rears its head once again. Grabbing the other pillow, he flings it across the room with as much strength as he can muster. It hits the opposite wall and falls to the ground with an unsatisfying _flump_.

He wants to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Not a big deal” Wonshik you’re fooling literally no one.


	14. Chapter 14

The incident in the workshop consumes Taekwoon's every waking moment for the rest of the week. He replays it over and over, thinking of all the things he could have – _should_ _have_ – done differently. All the things he wishes Wonshik would have done differently.

The weight of his guilt over slapping him is just increasing day by day. He knows his anger and despair were totally justified but getting violent had been the entirely wrong thing to do, not to mention out of character. Before that moment, he’d never struck someone a blow in his life. Wonshik's expressions of shock, then hurt, then anger keep cycling through his head, and he often finds his hand tingling in memory of the strike he'd landed.

Even though spending every waking moment thinking of Wonshik up to that point had been torture, it had at least been a small source of happiness for him. With this new low, Hakyeon can tell that something’s wrong, but Taekwoon hasn’t told him what's happened. He’s worried he’ll try to get involved somehow, and though Taekwoon is grateful for what Hakyeon has done for him so far where Wonshik is concerned – talking him out of making more appointments in particular – he feels like this new development is something he needs to deal with alone, at least for now.

Taekwoon sighs. And there he goes using his real name again, romanticising him.

Since meeting him, he's wished to be able to see the real Wonshik but the incident has just shown him – again – that that dream will never be able to come true. For him, the real Wonshik will never exist, the alter ego all he'll ever be allowed to see.

 _Ravi_ , he reminds himself. _Ravi_. But the name won't stick and the inner conflict is beginning to tear him apart.

When the guilt eating him alive finally becomes too much to bear, he copies down Wonshik's phone number from the details he'd given them at his fitting months ago before he leaves work one night. Knowing there’s no chance Wonshik will be returning for the suit he'd been asking about, leaving his apology over the phone is one of only two ways he can think of to have himself be heard.

He dials the number that evening with a cold sweat after much dithering, sure that he’ll forget the apology he’s practiced as soon as he hears Wonshik’s voice. What he isn’t expecting is for no one to answer and he’s forced into leaving an agonisingly flustered message.

"Won— Rav— Mr. Ki—" He sighs heavily. "It's Taekwoon. I got your number from the details you left at the store. Um... I know I shouldn't be using it, but I won't call again after this. I promise. I just had to say that I'm... I'm sorry. For what I did. I shouldn't have— But you shouldn't have— Just. I'm sorry, okay? Bye."

He throws himself face down on his bed as soon as he hangs up and groans into the covers. That was so painfully embarrassing. Why hadn't he practiced a message beforehand in case this happened? Why hadn't he written down what he wanted to say? Well, it’s too late now. And perhaps if Wonshik had picked up, the whole thing would have gone ten times worse.

He has trouble sleeping that night, squirming around in bed as he imagines what Wonshik’s reaction might be to hearing his message. He hopes that he’ll start to feel better now he’s voiced his apology, but as the days stretch on, he realises he has no way of knowing if Wonshik even heard it. What if he typed the phone number wrong? What if the recording hadn’t worked? What if Wonshik deleted it without even listening to it as soon as he discovered who it was from?

The not knowing starts to feel worse than the guilt.

As more days pass, the knowledge that there’s only one other way for him to make sure his apology is really heard starts to eat away at him. He’d vowed to himself he’d never do it again. But would it really be the same? If he books an appointment just to talk, he’s not really breaking his promise. He won’t even let Wonshik touch him. He’ll just turn up at the room, say what he has to say and leave.

It doesn’t take much more than that for him to cave.

He fishes his membership card out of his bedside table that night, painstakingly reading off each number as he dials despite already knowing it by heart, like he’s giving himself one last chance to back out. His fingers shake as he chooses the option to talk to somebody and he flushes with heat when he hears the receptionist’s bemusement at his request for the cheapest possible appointment. He’s expecting to be told that Ravi is no longer available to him but the transaction goes through without a hitch.

Two and a half weeks later, he arrives at the building, and in what feels like no time at all, he’s being escorted to the lift and handed his key. He strides purposefully down the hallway, clutching the card in his hand. His resolve is already wavering and as soon as he opens the door and lays eyes on a still-black-haired Wonshik prowling towards him with his usual spark of desire – and something else, an intensity reminiscent of his rage that day in the workshop – it starts to slip through his fingers.

Before he has a chance to even draw breath, Wonshik is upon him and his heart leaps into his throat for a moment under the misguided belief that Wonshik had actually been about to kiss him. He presses his lips to Taekwoon's neck instead, a direct hit to his sweet spot, and his eyelids flutter shut, feeling like he's come home.

Wonshik's tongue sweeps over the skin as he sucks delicately, and it’s only when he grinds his hips against Taekwoon's, letting him feel his erection and Taekwoon's beginning to stir, that he can comprehend the situation. He grabs Wonshik's shoulders and pushes him back with a gasp.

"Wait!"

Wonshik takes the opportunity to start lifting Taekwoon’s shirt instead.

"Wo- Wait!" he says again, heart lurching as his real name almost slips past his lips in his panic.

Wonshik’s eyes narrow in suspicion like he can guess exactly what Taekwoon had been about to say. He ploughs on before Wonshik can mention it.

"I didn't come for you to... to do anything." He hates that he still stumbles over the words.

Wonshik’s eyes narrow further, anger resurfacing like an echo along with deeper confusion. "Then why?"

"I just... I needed to know if you got my message," he mumbles awkwardly, averting his eyes. With the words out in the open and Wonshik staring at him aghast he feels unbelievably stupid and it takes everything he has not to turn tail.

"I got it," Wonshik answers warily.

"And?" Taekwoon asks, lifting his head hopefully.

Wonshik's expression is stony. "It's difficult to forgive you when I don't even know why you did it."

"You don't know?" Taekwoon asks, flabbergasted, his mouth on the verge of falling open.

"How could I know? I offer you something you clearly want and then you treat me like an insect!"

Taekwoon's disbelief swells at least three sizes. "You mean, you really don't get it?" His anger is beginning to return too, realising Wonshik hasn’t been feeling any remorse.

"Get what?"

Taekwoon bites his tongue and shuts his eyes to take a deep breath. "It doesn't matter," he forces out through clenched teeth. "All that matters is we don't forgive each other. I got my answer, so I'm leaving."

He turns away but Wonshik scoffs and grabs one of his wrists. " _You_ don't forgive _me?_ What did _I_ do!"

" _You_ started it!" Taekwoon cries, spinning to face him and jabbing a finger at his chest with his free hand. "Coming in to _my_ workplace and trying to... to... _seduce_ me!"

Wonshik snorts. "Like I really need to try."

Taekwoon quivers. If Wonshik knows how he affects him, then why doesn’t he understand?

He’s extremely pleased with the icy response he manages despite how flustered he is. "Well, clearly you do or the incident in the workshop would have ended much differently."

Wonshik's expression darkens, his eyes flashing. "Is that a challenge?"

Taekwoon sighs, deflating. He wishes Wonshik would just realise that the situation has nothing to do with sex. "No, it isn't." He’s truly exhausted by this point, his will to fight draining out of him. Deep down, he'd known coming here would turn into a big mistake. He just can’t help himself, can he? "Let me go."

"No can do. So shut up. Your time's ticking."

"I told you, that's not why I'm here." Taekwoon repeats before emitting a startled squeak. "And that's not what I even paid for!" he exclaims when Wonshik sinks to his knees and reaches for Taekwoon's belt, licking his lips.

"It isn't?" Wonshik asks, sounding completely unconcerned and still trying to unhook it.

Taekwoon does his best to slap his hands away.

Wonshik heaves an aggravated sigh and glares up at him. “Why not? Is it because you’re seeing someone else?”

“ _What?_ No!” Taekwoon squeaks. Is Wonshik insane? How could there possibly be anyone else?

“Then if you’re really sorry, let me do my job.”

"What are you talking about? Do you know how much I paid just to be able to apologise to your face? If that doesn't show how serious I am about this, then I don't know what can!"

"I've told you what can."

"And _I've_ told _you_. I'm not here for that."

Wonshik groans, rolling his head on his shoulders before finally climbing to his feet, glaring. "Why the hell not?" he growls. "You suddenly think you're above it?"

Taekwoon is quick to deny that notion. "That's not it!"

"Then why?" Wonshik pushes, and apprehension coils in Taekwoon's stomach; this conversation is heading in a dangerous direction. He averts his eyes again and refuses to answer, trying to inch towards the door.

Wonshik's hand slams against the wall beside his head. " _Why?_ " The ferocity of the question makes him jump and he starts to speak before he can rein in his tongue.

"Because... Because I don't like the things you do to me," he whispers.

Wonshik's face drops like he’s been slapped again. Taekwoon replays his words back in his head and realises how it sounded.

"Wait! That's not what I— I didn't mean it like that! You were great! Well, more than great. Too great, even." He says the last sentence more to himself than Wonshik and his face floods with heat when he realises he said it out loud, but still he can’t stop. "And that's the point. With you, I... You're just so... It's... I can't..." No explanations are coming out of his mouth, but he can feel them coming out of his eyes instead, staring longingly back into Wonshik's.

After a few seconds of total bewilderment, Wonshik blinks and his face goes slack, a spark of realisation beginning to dawn in his eyes.

It’s terrifying. Taekwoon has never felt so exposed before, so fragile. It’s like all it would take is one breath from Wonshik and he’d scatter at his feet.

"I can't do this," he breathes and ducks beneath Wonshik's arm still beside his head, wrenching open the door and racing down the hallway outside. He jabs the button over and over to call the lift, even though part of him is hoping that Wonshik will follow.

He doesn’t.

The lift doors close and Taekwoon sags against the rail. He'd hoped that the meeting would help to alleviate the ache in his chest, if only a little, but it’s only served to make it worse, swelling so large he can barely breathe.

Wonshik must get confessions like that from his clients all the time. He’s probably having a good chuckle to himself right now, laughing at the poor fool who’s developed feelings for a prostitute. It will probably be a funny story he’ll tell the people he works with, another mark to add to his tally of all the unfortunates stupid enough to become infatuated with him. Most likely, he won’t even remember it come tomorrow, Taekwoon too insignificant for him to spare another thought for.

He may as well cancel his membership as soon as he gets home. It’s not like he’ll be needing it again. He’ll probably find a message already on the machine telling him his membership has been terminated and he’s banned for life.

He groans and buries his face in his hands. He’s not sure how that could have gone any worse.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life got in the way of posting a chapter yesterday, but it should be back to normal from here on out! If you ever want to keep updated, try my [tumblr](https://chimwonshik.tumblr.com)

Wonshik staggers over to the bed and sinks onto the mattress, dazed.

So  _ that’s _ why Taekwoon had been so angry when he'd tried to seduce him. Because it isn't Wonshik's body that he wants.

It’s a foreign notion to him. The whole point of his job is for him to be desirable, one of the reasons for his carefully maintained body and his persona honed through experience. He loves the look of hunger he gives his customers, loves the smug thrill of knowing it’s all they’ll ever get, that at the end of the day, he’s the one in control. He channels that feeling into the expression on his face, the foundation for that hint of a smirk on his lips and lust in his eyes. It never fails to drive them wild.

Taekwoon’s confession isn’t the first he’s heard. There’s obviously an element of attraction for the people who choose his services over his colleagues and he’s sure some of them do secretly consider him their steamy love affair. He’s happy to play that role if that’s the fantasy they want to live, as long as they realise that’s all it is. If ever they try for anything more, usually just a breathy reminder of  _ your time’s ticking _ tends to be enough for them to get the hint. If they try again when they next meet, that’s when Wonshik knows it’s a lost cause and he doesn’t hesitate to report them to his superiors to either ban them from seeing him, or even ban them entirely if they react badly.

Until they reach that point though, never has a client stopped seeing him because of the way they feel. They’ve never once refused his touch, let alone multiple times. If anything, they just book even more of his time so their infatuation becomes overbearingly obvious, under the impression that if they just throw enough money at him he’ll agree to be theirs.

In comparison, Taekwoon had tried to cut him out. It’s like he’d pre-empted the sure rejection and banned himself, knowing it’s Wonshik’s job to please so it would be foolish to expect anything more.

Today, not only did he refuse Wonshik’s advances over and over, but he booked the appointment just to talk. No one’s ever done that before. Sure, Taekwoon maybe had a good reason for needing to contact him, but there was nothing stopping him from going through with the sex that he’d paid for, not even Wonshik who would have had every right to after the way their last meeting ended. Even though he was still angry, Wonshik had been looking forward to sex with him again. He’d thought his waiting was finally over and he’d been eager to enact that revenge he'd been dreaming about even though Taekwoon hadn’t booked a blowjob. In Taekwoon’s wake, he can’t deny his disappointment.

At least he’d gotten his answer as to whether Taekwoon had been going to someone else. The horror on his face when Wonshik had asked had been too honest, too caught off-guard to be an act. Now he knows Taekwoon really is as genuinely timid as he’s always seemed, he’s sure his first assumption had been correct, that Taekwoon had never been here before his first session with Wonshik.

He’s often wondered how Taekwoon came to find himself here in the first place, who might have gotten him an invite. He can't imagine him strolling in of his own volition, head held high. Had his first session been a gift from someone? Had he arrived at the room not knowing who he was going to find? Or had Taekwoon picked him out personally, drawn to him where no others had caught his eye?

Wonshik’s stomach twists when he realises he hopes it's the latter.

Hongbin’s revelation that he has a crush sends a bolt of fear through him and he lays back on the bed, head in his hands. He may know now how Taekwoon feels about him, but feelings aren’t exactly Wonshik’s forte. No good ever comes from letting himself get close to people. He’s learnt that from experience. But with how much of his thoughts Taekwoon has taken up over the past few months, he wonders if it’s already too late.

His stomach plummets as he thinks of the way Taekwoon left just now, humiliated and afraid. He knows he should have said something, that a normal person would have said something, but he’d been in shock. It was probably a blessing. With Wonshik’s track record of doing the entirely wrong thing and current inability to face whatever he might be feeling towards the other man, it probably would have resulted in another slap.

With the back and forth they've had going on lately, he knows the onus is on him to make the next move, especially now Taekwoon probably never wants to show his face again. But it’s not like he can track him down at the only place he knows he can find him and respond in the only way he knows how. He tried that already, and look where it got him. He’s not even sure he wants to, but a small voice in his head is wondering if Taekwoon might be different. If it could be worth the risk of getting hurt to find out.

That thought just makes him feel sick.

He lowers his hands and stares blankly at the ceiling, remaining on the bed until the session Taekwoon paid for is over. At the door, he takes one last look at the unrumpled bed before slinking from the room.

He won't tell anyone what’s transpired. They don’t need to know. Not yet, anyway. If it turns out that Taekwoon is just playing a very elaborate game to get close to him he won't hesitate, but until then, Wonshik isn’t finished with him.

 

* * *

 

It takes him almost a week to scrounge up what little courage he has to make a trip to Taekwoon's place of work. He sneaks between department displays and clothes rails as he approaches the tailoring section, remembering the way Taekwoon had run away from him before.

He still isn't sure exactly what it is he intends to say when he sees him. To return Taekwoon’s unspoken confession wouldn’t really be the truth and he has a feeling asking to book some of his time might be met with another slap. He’s kind of hoping just his presence will be enough to convey what he doesn’t know how to say, preferably without giving the impression that he intends to corner him in the back room and finish what he’d started last time.

As he gets closer, his gaze roves between the mannequins and fabric but he catches no sign of him, and just as he’s deciding to linger until Taekwoon makes an appearance, a figure steps out from behind a pillar beside him.

"Can I help you?" the person asks and Wonshik curses inwardly.

How could he have forgotten about the meddlesome sales assistant?

A smile is plastered across the man's face, one that doesn’t reach his hostile eyes.

"I've got an appointment to see Taekwoon," Wonshik answers.

The man's simper doesn't slip. "I don't think you do."

"He's expecting me."

"I doubt that."

"Is he here?"

"Not for you."

Wonshik clenches his fists to keep from reaching out and wiping the sneer from the man's face, his nostrils flaring. Despite his vexation, his voice is flawlessly composed when he speaks. "Fine. Tell him I'll be seeing him later."

"No."

Wonshik had begun to walk away but the man's answer makes him pause. He looks at him over his shoulder with a smirk. "That won't stop it from happening."

It’s gratifying to see the man's sugary façade be cracked by a scowl.

With his head held high, Wonshik saunters from the department and back to his car, pausing first to check the store’s closing time. He’s come this far. He’s not backing down now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a long time to actually come together, just like chapter 10. I suppose I struggle when it comes to Wonshik being introspective (which is strangely fitting considering his character!)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned in my author’s note at the very start of this fic that the latter half was going to have bigger alterations. We’ve reached that point now, though this chapter (and the next couple as a result) have ended up with even more drastic changes than I’d originally planned. More on that in the end note! (Also, this chapter originally took place in November, but I’ve reviewed the time frame of this fic and the events of House of Mirrors and it turns out it should be happening in August instead!)

Taekwoon leaves work at eight o'clock, trapping a groan in his throat as he steps out into the stifling summer air. Usually he’d be rejoicing at the weather, but he hasn’t been able to take much cheer in anything for a while now.

His mind hasn’t stopped whirring with the argument he and Wonshik had last week, once again thinking of all the things he should have said. His indirect confession has probably made him a laughing stock amongst Wonshik and his friends. That thought would be enough to have his cheeks burning even without the sun beating down on him, the humiliation making him want to shrivel up and die.

He heaves a sigh and scuffs his foot on the pavement. How long is it going to take for him to move on from this?

The honk of a car horn breaks him from his brooding and he turns to look at a vehicle moving at a crawl on the road beside him. He doesn’t know much about cars and their makes, but he can at least tell it’s a sports car, flashy and low to the ground. The sun is glaring off the window so he can’t make out the driver. Maybe they want directions?

The window slides down and his bones almost turn to liquid when he sees Wonshik staring back at him.

"Get in."

Taekwoon stares at him, feet frozen to the pavement. He’s acutely aware of the queue of cars piling up behind Wonshik’s, tooting their horns; they’re on a main road after all.

Wonshik pays them no heed.

Taekwoon stares for a second longer before continuing down the street, attempting to ignore the car still rolling along beside him.

"I can play this game just as long as you," Wonshik calls out to him. Taekwoon shivers despite the heat, knowing it’s entirely down to the hold Wonshik’s voice has over him.

 _We'll see about that_ , Taekwoon says to himself, making a right down a small alley leading between two buildings that’s his shortcut home.

He hears the rev of Wonshik's engine before the car speeds away and he presses a hand to his chest in an attempt to still his thundering heart. Coming to a halt when he turns a corner down the path, he pauses in the shadow of one of the buildings to give himself a moment to breathe.

He hates that Wonshik knows where to find him and can just turn up whenever he pleases. It makes him powerless, especially now Wonshik knows how he feels about him. Why couldn’t he take the hint from Taekwoon’s speedy exit last week that he doesn’t want to see him?

Despite those thoughts, he’s filled with regret already that he didn’t do what Wonshik said. Agreeing to join Wonshik in such a confined space would just have been another bad idea to add to his list, but his curiosity is piqued. What had he wanted? Had he just come across Taekwoon by chance or had he been waiting for him? He knows the latter is too much to hope for but rational thought rarely comes into the equation whenever Wonshik is concerned.

Giving himself a shake, he continues down the alley, heaving a sigh as he tries to put Wonshik from his mind and make the most of the shade instead. He just wants it all to be over. He’s starting to wish he’d never met him in the first place.

When he reaches the exit of the alleyway, he wants to cry.

Wonshik is waiting for him, car parked, standing leaning against the passenger door with his arms crossed.

He’s wearing a white, short-sleeved shirt with black stitching buttoned to his neck and tucked into black jeans ripped at the knees, and Taekwoon can see a few silver rings on his fingers glinting in the sun. It all contrasts with his new black hair and Taekwoon is struck all over again by how cruel his existence is.

Wonshik straightens up at Taekwoon's approach and opens the car door, waving him inside with a flourishing bow.

Taekwoon can no longer fight himself. He may have refused a few minutes earlier but that was just due to his shock. With this second chance probably being his last, he can’t bring himself to turn down spending even just a single moment more with him. He climbs inside, letting out a sigh of bliss despite himself when his skin meets the air con.

Wonshik gets in the driver’s seat and Taekwoon swallows hard when he slams his door shut, the air suddenly feeling much too thin. He shuts his eyes tightly, in fear at what Wonshik might say and in fear that he won't be able to control himself, but instead he jumps a foot in the air when Wonshik's arm snakes around him.

"Relax," Wonshik rumbles in his ear. "I'm just putting your belt on."

"I-I c-can do it," Taekwoon stammers, body on fire as he swats him away. He doesn’t appreciate Wonshik brushing his hand over his thigh as he withdraws.

"Ready?" Wonshik asks after watching Taekwoon fumble with his seatbelt for an embarrassingly long time.

Taekwoon sits back and shuts his eyes again, nodding curtly. Wonshik's familiar heady scent is swirling all around him, filling his every breath. It’s driving him crazy.

He jerks in fright when Wonshik peels away from the parking spot, his stomach left behind at the alley exit.

What is he doing? Is it even really happening? Taekwoon's head is spinning and it’s only when Wonshik turns onto a slip road that he realises he doesn’t even know where he’s taking him. He’d assumed Wonshik had just wanted to talk, but there’s purpose to his driving.

"Where are we going?" he asks, finally turning to look at him. Which is a big mistake.

Wonshik behind a steering wheel has to be one of the sexiest things he's ever seen, which is saying something considering the sessions they’ve shared together. He isn't sure how much time passes as he drinks in the sight before he realises Wonshik hasn't answered him.

" _Wonshik_ ," Taekwoon prompts, voice as stern as he can manage in the situation.

Wonshik’s lips twitch in amusement and Taekwoon quivers when he realises why. _He called him by his real name._

_Fuuuuuck._

He turns to look out the window and winces, contemplating swinging open the door and throwing himself out. It’s a good few minutes before he musters the courage to ask again. "Where are you taking me?" he all but whispers.

"We're nearly there," Wonshik answers as they leave the motorway, buildings rising up all around.

He pulls into an underground car park a few minutes later and Taekwoon is hesitant to follow when he gets out of the car.

Wonshik leads him to a lift and he tries to look anywhere but at the man beside him when the doors close and they make their ascent. They open with a ding on the seventh floor and Taekwoon follows him out to the last door on the right.

A great sense of foreboding threatens to overwhelm him as Wonshik punches in a key code and opens the door. But when he sees the interior his jaw drops, and not just because of how luxurious it is.

Wonshik has brought him to his _home_.

He gapes around at the vast, open space, a kitchen, dining area and lounge combined in one large room separated only by a couple of support pillars. Two doors along the left wall must lead to a bathroom and bedroom while the wall ahead beyond the lounge and the one to the right past the kitchen are made up completely of floor-to-ceiling windows. He’s not sure why he’s so amazed at how extravagant it all looks. If Wonshik can afford one of their suits, then of course his home is going to be just as lavish.

His feet carry him straight to the windows past the kitchen and he stares out at the sun setting over the city, casting the sky in warm oranges and pinks. He turns to look at Wonshik over his shoulder with his mouth agape to find him leaning on the kitchen island, smiling. The man jerks upright and the expression falls from his face as he turns to busy himself in the kitchen.

"I’m having dinner. Do you want some?" He opens the oven to pull out some take out cartons he must have been keeping warm inside - enough for two - and starts arranging them in the middle of the island.

Taekwoon can do nothing but stare. He’s pretty sure he must have stepped into an alternate dimension somewhere between the store and that alleyway.

When Wonshik throws him a questioning glance, eyebrow raised, he realises he still hasn’t answered but all he can manage is to nod dumbly. He’d been heading home for his own dinner before Wonshik ambushed him, but he’s not sure he’ll be able to stomach anything for nerves right now.

He doesn’t know what to make of any of this.

Wonshik takes a seat, gesturing towards the stool opposite for Taekwoon. He hasn’t provided any plates, digging into some noodles to eat directly from the carton instead before Taekwoon has even taken a seat. He uses a spoon to reach over to a separate dish, eating how he must when he’s alone.

Taekwoon lets his satchel strap slide from his shoulder, lowering it to the floor beside the stool, before taking a seat just as slowly. He picks up the chopsticks Wonshik has provided, holding them limply in his hand.

Wonshik keeps his eyes intent on the food as he eats, and Taekwoon can’t decide if that’s better or worse. Having his eyes on him when he’d turned from the window just now had just about stopped his heart, but like this he feels like a ghost, an unseen intruder spying on his private life. He has to look away, examining the kitchen instead.

The colour scheme is all grey and stainless steel on white, kitted out with every appliance and kitchen gadget Taekwoon can think of. Takeout menus are overflowing from where they’re wedged between the microwave and coffee machine and Taekwoon wonders if this part of the room is ever used for its intended purpose. For some reason, he can’t imagine Wonshik standing at the stove, but it’s so easy to insert himself there instead, cooking a meal ready for when he gets home. This whole encounter is going to fuel so many more fantasies, dangerous domestic ones where they curl up to watch TV together in the evenings or sit at the island for breakfast, Wonshik’s hair sleep-mussed and standing on end at the back.

He’s in so much trouble.

He wants to ask why Wonshik has brought him here, but he’s having a hard enough time making sure no rice gets lodged in his throat as it is without trying to talk on top of it. He’s hoping Wonshik will broach the subject himself, when they’ve finished eating maybe. Perhaps offering him a meal is his way of softening the blow of the outright rejection he’s about to give, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He could have just stayed away from him for good if that was the case and the message would have been just as clear.

If this were anyone else, he might start wondering if this is a date, a bizarre way of asking him out for dinner. Though, if it were anyone else, they would ask him beforehand if he wanted to get a bite to eat instead of ambushing him on the street and having the food ready without asking what he wants. That’s not what this is, but by the looks of things, he’s soon to find out.

The cartons are getting emptier, and Taekwoon is just getting more nervous, sure whatever it is Wonshik is planning to say won’t be good. His hands are starting to shake so hard he can barely hold his chopsticks, the food no better than tasteless gruel in his state of panic. When he’s eaten the last mouthful he can manage, he can’t take it anymore. He needs a break before he has to face whatever this is.

“Can I use your bathroom?” he asks, almost breathless.

Wonshik looks at him then for the first time since sitting down. He swallows his mouthful and tilts his head towards the entryway. “Door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Taekwoon murmurs, sliding carefully off his stool so his trembling legs don’t get tangled in it.

He gains speed the further he gets from Wonshik, eager to get the bathroom door shut behind him. His mouth falls open as soon as he steps inside and spots the jacuzzi bathtub fitted into the floor. He isn’t really sure why he’s so surprised considering what he’s already seen of the rest of Wonshik’s home.

He stands at the sink and looks at himself in the mirror, taking in deep shuddering breaths through his mouth.

After everything, why does he still let Wonshik work him up into such a state? Over and over he’s told himself that Wonshik doesn’t feel the same way, _can’t_ feel the same way, but each time without fail, these fantasies in his head take over and he starts wondering if maybe, just maybe…

He gives himself a shake. This has to stop. He doesn’t want to step back out there, but he’s got to finally face this head on so he can maybe start to move on with his life. It’s been over six months since he met Wonshik which is already more time than he should have spent on him. Despite his attempt at building some courage, his feet stay rooted to the spot and it’s only when he realises it’s starting to look like he has a stomach problem that he manages to force them into action.

Back in the living space, Wonshik is standing at the window looking out with his hands clasped behind his back, and he turns his head to look over his shoulder as Taekwoon approaches. As usual, it takes his breath away. An overwhelming desire takes hold of him, wanting to press a soft kiss to his lips before wrapping his arms around his waist, Wonshik's back to his chest as he leans his chin on his shoulder to stare out at the world below. Luckily, Wonshik speaks before he can make a fool out of himself.

"I’ll take you home." He picks up his keys from the counter and scoops up Taekwoon’s satchel from the floor, holding it out to him.

Taekwoon's face goes slack in shock. He stares at his bag, then looks up at Wonshik.

“Is that all?”

Wonshik’s eyes almost bulge out of his head. “You want sex?” he asks, amazed.

Taekwoon splutters. “Wha- _No!”_ How could Wonshik possibly think that’s what he’d meant? “I want to know why you brought me here!” Taekwoon shocks himself with his own boldness, a soft gasp escaping his lips. He wishes he could snatch the words back down his throat.

Wonshik looks like a deer in headlights, opening his mouth then closing it again. Taekwoon has never seen him so lost for words.

When it seems no answer is forthcoming, Taekwoon shakes his head.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he announces, voice trembling. He clenches his fists, steeling himself to force his next words out. “You know how I feel about you. You need to either tell me what you want or leave me alone from now on.” The words are as painful as a shard of glass in his throat, but he knows they’re a mercy in comparison to the hurt that will be waiting for him if he lets this continue.

Wonshik is still rooted to the spot, eyes darting everywhere but at Taekwoon like he’s searching for an escape route, but his open apartment layout doesn’t really offer anywhere for him to hide. And Taekwoon isn’t going to let him run. Wonshik has as good as handed him this opportunity on a platter and he’d be a fool to turn his back on it.

They’re going to do this once and for all. If Taekwoon ends up leaving here tonight with a broken heart, then so be it. At least he’ll know for sure that it’s over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This note is only really relevant to people who have read the original version of this fic, though I’ve kept it spoiler free)
> 
> The original version of this chapter is one of the main reasons why I wanted to do this revamp, because I hate it. It makes me cringe so hard all I can do is curl into a ball and groan into a pillow whenever I think about it. Originally, I edited this so they shared the meal together, and then it returned to the old plot of Wonshik taking Taekwoon home (with extra reflection on Taekwoon’s part to help explain away why he wasn’t asking Wonshik wth was going on). Then earlier today, as I was making final tweaks, I realised that I still hated it and the whole point of this revamp was to remove all the parts I’m not happy with, and that if that plot direction was one of them, then it had to go.
> 
> With this new turn of events, the beginning of the next chapter is just going to blend into how it goes in the original, so the direction of the overall plot is still going to remain the same (the part about the money is still going to make an appearance too, just in a different way). I suppose I just wanted to sort-of apologise to anyone who prefers the route the original took?
> 
> Anyway, sorry for rambling. I’m sure no one really cares, I just felt like I needed to explain myself lol I hope other people think this is as much of an improvement as I do!
> 
> (Also, now the next couple of chapters have more extensive edits I suddenly need to make, I'll see if I can still stick to my schedule. If an update doesn't happen tomorrow, then you know the reason!)


	17. Chapter 17

“Is this… is this a date?” Taekwoon can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, and it seems Wonshik can’t either because he’s still staring, frozen.

Taekwoon wants to laugh at his own stupidity. “If it isn’t… If this is just you pitying me, then I don’t need it. This is worse than…” He takes a deep breath, unable to finish the thought. “You need to leave me alone.” He takes a step forward to retrieve his bag that’s still clutched in Wonshik’s hand when the other man finally speaks.

“I don’t pity you.” His usually husky voice is even hoarser than usual. “I—” He averts his eyes to his feet, a frown creasing his eyebrows, and when he next speaks, it’s through a clenched jaw as if he’s angry. “I wanted to see you.”

Hope would bloom in Taekwoon’s chest if it weren't for Wonshik’s strange expression. He has to lick dry lips before he can speak. “Why?”

Wonshik doesn’t lift his eyes from his feet. He just shrugs.

A burst of impatience surges through Taekwoon but he fights it back. He remembers the way Wonshik had badgered him for an answer the other day and how it had ended in disaster. Add that to Wonshik looking like he's not far off bolting like a spooked horse and he knows he needs to be gentle.

He takes a steadying breath. “What am I to you?” he tries.

Wonshik shrugs again.

Taekwoon studies him standing there, his shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. Does he really not know? Or is he just having trouble saying it out loud? Whatever the case, this is a far cry from the suave, mischievous character he portrays when he works. This is a side of vulnerability Taekwoon wasn’t expecting to see.

He’s only just realising that Wonshik inviting him into his home as he has is a massive show of trust. With the nature of his work, it would be dangerous for him to let clients anywhere near his private life, let alone to have them find out where he lives. That he feels safe enough with Taekwoon to bring him here… the magnitude isn’t lost on him.

He reaches out for his bag, tugging it from Wonshik’s fingers. Wonshik’s face drops but Taekwoon isn’t leaving. He puts his satchel back on the floor at the base of the stool instead.

“Can we sit?” he asks, looking toward the lounge.

Wonshik visibly swallows before he nods and skirts around him, leading the way to a pair of white leather sofas and a reclining armchair, and sitting on one of the two-seaters. Taekwoon planned to take a seat opposite to give them both some space, but Wonshik clears a magazine from the spot beside him, indicating where he should sit.

He knows he’s the one who suggested this, but he still perches on the edge of the cushion as far away as he can get. Wonshik’s reluctance thus far means the responsibility falls to him to lead this conversation and he can feel the thudding of his heart like the vibration of a kick drum in his chest as he tries to take a deep breath to calm his nerves.

He’s not sure what it will take for Wonshik to put what he can’t say into words, but there’s one thing Taekwoon knows he does understand. Perhaps it will help if he takes that route. “Did you just want to see me for sex?” he asks, voice not much more than a whisper.

Wonshik takes a breath. “Well…” His gaze flickers to Taekwoon’s, then into his lap. “Yeah. And no.”

Taekwoon’s heart rate speeds up even more if that’s possible. He thinks he knows what it is Wonshik is trying so hard to avoid saying – at least, he’s hoping with every fibre of his being that he’s right – but he doesn’t understand why he’s so reluctant to voice it. Taekwoon will have to keep peeling back the layers until he reaches the reason he’s trying to bury.

"Did it make you happy when I’d book an appointment?"

After a moment’s hesitation, Wonshik nods. "I like having sex with you."

Taekwoon tries not to look too pleased but all it takes is the thought of his next question to sober him, his heart twisting. "And… other people?"

"I like it, but it’s not the same." Wonshik doesn’t hesitate as long for that question and Taekwoon can’t decide if that makes him happy or if it’s crushing that he even needs to ask about Wonshik's active sex life in the first place.

Before he knows what’s happening, Wonshik is in his lap with a knee either side of his hips and his hands gripping the back of the sofa either side of his head.

"But it's been quite a while, so how about we refresh my memory?" he murmurs, a devilish smirk curling the corners of his lips. He sinks his fingers into the back of Taekwoon’s hair and tugs to tilt his chin up like he’s about to trail kisses down his neck as he’s always done in the past. But Taekwoon can see straight through him. It’s like it’s a defence reflex, to distract him with sex so he doesn’t need to face what’s happening between them right now.

Taekwoon presses a hand to Wonshik's chest, pushing himself back into the cushions as far as he can despite the part of him that just wants to give in.

“You’re deflecting,” he points out, resolute despite how breathy his voice sounds. He can’t be faulted for being affected by him regardless.

"No, I’m not," Wonshik murmurs, grinding his hips down against him with one of the graceful rolls that Taekwoon had once grown to know so well.

Taekwoon flops his head back with a colossal sigh of irritation. "Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to force yourself on me?" he asks through gritted teeth.

Wonshik scowls at the memory, his hips stilling. "Fine, fine! We won't," he huffs, visibly deflating. "I just don’t get you. We’ve been having sex already so what difference does it make if we have sex now?"

"Because it hasn’t been just sex for me," Taekwoon forces himself to admit. "Casual sex isn’t something I can do. And you know that isn’t what I want from you.”

“And if that’s all you could get?”

Taekwoon trembles at the thought, a twinge of pain in his chest, but he doesn’t need time to consider his answer. “Then I’ll get my things and leave right now.” He makes to sit up but Wonshik holds him in place with his weight.

He wonders why they’re having this conversation with Wonshik still in his lap, but it seems the position is making him feel a little bit more in control. He’s at least talking a bit more than he had at the start of this.

“I want more than—” The words die in Wonshik’s throat and he growls in frustration. That same reluctance is on his face again where he’s looking down at him, but as Taekwoon watches, it becomes resignation and he thinks that he’s finally going to get an answer. He’s holding his breath without realising it.

And then Wonshik is kissing him.

A noise sounds in Taekwoon’s throat, like a cross between a choked whine and a gasp that he probably couldn’t ever make again if he tried. His hands hover in the air in shock as Wonshik’s cup his face, his fingers sliding through the hairs at Taekwoon’s nape. His lips are so soft moving against his, at first tentative, then a second kiss a little deeper, treating him like he’s something fragile.

As fast as it happened, Wonshik is gone, is out of his lap and on the other side of the coffee table, pacing back and forth.

“There. That’s how I feel,” he bites out, like he’s actually asking _Are you happy now?_

All Taekwoon can do is stare, his fingers over his mouth like he might seal in the sensation of Wonshik’s lips on his forever. It’s like he’s been turned to stone, all thought frozen. _What…? Did that really just...? Did Wonshik actually…?_

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

As his silence stretches on, Wonshik chances a glance at him and whatever expression he sees on Taekwoon’s face seems to have his agitation draining out of him. He edges back to the sofa like he’s approaching a nervous animal and lowers himself back onto the couch.

“Did I break you?” he asks, after maybe another minute of silence or what might only have been a few seconds.

A laugh bursts out of Taekwoon which he stifles behind his hand. His cheeks are aflame and he lifts his other hand to help cover them, barely able to look Wonshik in the eye. But from what he can see, he looks pleased with himself, a small smile bringing out the curves of his cheeks where he looks down at his lap. His arms are wrapped around himself, his shoulders hunched, and Taekwoon feels a stab in his heart.

He’d been wrong just now when he thought Wonshik was treating him like he might break. It was Wonshik who was the fragile one, giving a piece of himself he might not have shared with anyone for a long time, perhaps worried he was making a mistake. Much like inviting Taekwoon into his home, it was a new level of vulnerability for him, and even now, the way he’s holding himself reminds Taekwoon of how exposed he’d felt after his own confession.

He moves without thinking and reaches out to fold him into his arms, realising too late it might be a step too far for him. But Wonshik’s hands clutch the back of Taekwoon’s shirt, holding him tightly in return and resting his head against his shoulder. He thinks Wonshik might be shaking too but he can’t tell over the way his own body is trembling. He runs a hand through Wonshik’s hair. His lips are still tingling.

Wonshik is the first to speak, and Taekwoon has never heard him sound so young. “What now?”

Taekwoon has no idea. He’s still reeling too hard from the kiss to think about what’s next. But it seems Wonshik still needs him to be in control of this, so he tries to pull himself together. “Now… we get to know each other.”

Wonshik snorts softly.

“What?” Taekwoon asks, squeezing his shoulder.

“How can you like me if you don’t even know me? How can I—” He stops himself but Taekwoon can fill in the rest of the question and his heart skips a beat.

He squeezes him again. "People meet like this all the time. Well, not like _this_ ," he says when Wonshik actually pulls back to raise an eyebrow at him. "But they see each other across a room and feel an attraction and they start talking to see if it could work. We just haven’t had that chance with our only way to meet being what it was."

"So if we’d seen each other at a bar, you would have come over to chat me up?" Wonshik asks, a smile starting to spread across his face.

Taekwoon’s stomach flips at the idea. "I’d want to. But I probably wouldn’t be brave enough."

Wonshik’s grin turns sly as he climbs into Taekwoon’s lap again. "Then maybe I’d come over to you," he murmurs. "You look so pretty when you blush, I probably wouldn’t be able to resist."

Even at just that, Taekwoon’s face floods with heat and he hits Wonshik on the shoulder in reprimand, nudging him away. Wonshik sits back, covering a laugh with his fist. Taekwoon’s heart feels full, sitting here with Wonshik in his lap, finally hearing what his laugh sounds like and trying to wrap his head around the confession that he would have been drawn to Taekwoon in return if they'd had the chance to meet normally. He thinks he might be floating.

Wonshik’s smile sobers as he looks down at him, his frown beginning to return. "About what you said earlier. If you can’t do casual sex, why did you make an appointment in the first place?"

Taekwoon winces. "I didn’t plan on it," he says, remembering his apprehension that day he’d accompanied Hyuk. "I only went with a friend because he wanted to show me what it was like."

"And you got caught up in it."

"I saw you," Taekwoon corrects, looking up into Wonshik’s eyes and smiling at the smug pride he finds there. He averts his gaze. “I didn’t realise I was going to see you as more than a…”

“A prostitute,” Wonshik finishes, with a hint of wry amusement.

Taekwoon nods. “But as soon as I stepped into that room, I wanted to know you. I wanted to know what you were thinking and what you wanted. How it would go between us if there weren’t any requests for you to follow. If you didn’t need to act.”

“It isn’t all an act. Not with you, anyway.” He lowers his eyes and murmurs the last part, shifting in Taekwoon’s lap like he intends to back away again. Taekwoon places his hands on his hips, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. Wonshik takes a breath. “I’m not just—” He cuts himself off like he has so many times tonight, some of that frustration back.

He climbs from his lap and Taekwoon doesn’t try to stop him this time, but he’s surprised when he gets back on, now sideways so he can get more comfortable between his legs. He’s too big for it, his legs much too long, but he doesn’t stop wriggling until he’s situated, face hidden in Taekwoon’s neck. It’s so simple for Taekwoon to wrap his arms around him and hold him closer.

Once Wonshik is comfy, he finishes his thought. “I don’t just think about sex.”

The beginnings of a laugh twitches Taekwoon’s lips, wanting to joke and point out the way Wonshik has never failed to bring it up whenever he’s around, but he’s glad Wonshik can’t see his face. He knows it’s not the time. And he understands what he’s trying to say. He means there’s more to him than just what Taekwoon has seen of him at his job, that it doesn’t define him. Taekwoon thinks of all the sides he’s seen of him just tonight: vulnerable, childish, awkward. Even an adorable softness.

He presses his smile to Wonshik’s hair and rubs a hand up and down his back. “I know.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, the only sound their gentle breathing, Wonshik’s breaths ghosting over his neck. It’s peaceful. The sun has fully set now and Wonshik’s apartment must have sensors because lights seem to have faded on while they were talking. He should feel exposed with the walls of windows, but it somehow just feels more intimate with the darkness pressing in from outside. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more content.

He can’t really believe he gets to have this. Not too long ago, he’d slapped him and thought he was never going to see him again, but here he is now, the closest he’s ever been. He’d always worried that his infatuation with Ravi would turn out to be all it was, that he’d get to know the real Wonshik underneath and realise not a single thing about them matches. Something settles inside him as he realises everything he’s seen tonight has just drawn him deeper.

It’s beginning to throw all of their encounters into perspective, especially that day when Wonshik had followed him into the workshop. He’s starting to see that perhaps Wonshik wanting a suit was just an excuse to come and see him, what with the way he hadn’t been interested in any materials and had just wanted to know why Taekwoon hadn’t been around. He could have just asked him out for coffee like a normal person, but instead, he’d gone all out, heavy-handed, and after receiving a punishment for it, he’d scaled his efforts back in another act of clumsiness. He’s been a rollercoaster ever since Taekwoon first met him and it’s becoming increasingly clear that he has a bit of a childish streak, a mix of innocence and selfishness, and Taekwoon can’t help but find his ineptitude endearing. He’s already looking forward to all the new things he might learn about him, every other layer he might find as he peers beneath the mask he’d gotten to know so well.

Wonshik is first to break the silence. "I want to get to know you too." His voice is quiet, the most vulnerable Taekwoon has heard it yet.

Taekwoon wraps his arms around him even tighter, resting his cheek on top of Wonshik’s head. He's so happy right now he thinks he might burst.

Even though Wonshik is heavy, the weight is unbelievably comforting and warm, and it doesn’t take much for him to close his eyes and let himself drift, so close to falling into a doze. He’d love to stay here all night. Or forever. Forever would be good too.

He cracks his eyes open when Wonshik speaks.

"This is nice." He’s still quiet, but this time it sounds like it’s because he thinks Taekwoon will ridicule the confession. It just makes his heart ache. He wonders how often Wonshik receives touch like this, one that offers comfort instead of seeking gratification.

"It is." He presses his nose to Wonshik's hair and breathes in the scent of his shampoo. It comes out in a sigh. "But I can't feel my legs," he admits.

Wonshik huffs a laugh and moves to roll them down so they’re laying together on the sofa, but Taekwoon resists with some restraint he didn’t know he possessed.

“It’s getting late,” he says in answer to Wonshik’s questioning look.

Wonshik’s face falls and he drops back into Taekwoon’s lap like he might keep him there with the weight of his body.

"Stay," he murmurs, cupping Taekwoon's cheek. Just that single word from Wonshik makes his resolve falter.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Taekwoon whispers, attempting to channel his inner Hakyeon.

"I’ll behave," Wonshik promises, eyes wide and innocent. Despite the devil of seduction Taekwoon knows he’s capable of being, there’s no trace of it now. When his lower lip starts to protrude further and further, Taekwoon knows resistance is futile.

"Okay," he relents and Wonshik beams at him so brightly that it actually takes his breath for a moment. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing that expression on him.

"I'll get you some clothes." He climbs from Taekwoon's lap and disappears into what must be his bedroom before he can muster a response. Wonshik emerges a moment later with a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.

"Here."

"Thanks," Taekwoon replies as he accepts them, dazed. They reached this point so suddenly, he’s having trouble catching up. “I’ll just…” He gestures towards the bathroom, and Wonshik steps back to let him pass. He’s not really sure what the point of his modesty is considering how much they’ve already seen of each other, but it will at least give him a chance for some space to attempt to digest all that’s happened. It’s probably pointless; he doesn’t think any amount of time will be enough to wrap his head around any of this.

At the bathroom door, he looks over his shoulder at Wonshik who had been watching him go and he catches sight of a small smile on his face that he isn’t quick enough to hide. He watches as he ducks his head and turns away to disappear into his bedroom again.

Taekwoon shuts the bathroom door behind him and leans against it, utterly bewildered by the situation. A few hours ago, he’d been walking home from work totally dejected, but now, he’s in Wonshik’s home and is about to spend the night. After Wonshik _kissed him_.

Taekwoon puts his hands to his cheeks and sits slowly on top of the toilet lid, all thought leaving him all over again.

Of course he’s thought about kissing Wonshik before. Many, many times. Usually during sex, but his many fantasies of Wonshik showing up to sweep him off his feet always featured a kiss. He’s always imagined himself to be a bit more responsive than how off-guard Wonshik caught him earlier, but it had still felt perfect. His fingers touch his lips again, sure he can still feel it.

He knows he’s taking too long but it takes actual effort to get his legs working again. The only thought that manages to get him to his feet is that Wonshik is out there waiting for him and he’s wasting precious seconds that he could be spending in his company instead.

He hurries out of his clothes and pulls on what Wonshik has given him, the material well-worn and soft, and he hugs himself to feel it against his skin. When he realises he’s already imagining stealing some of Wonshik’s clothes to wear at home, he knows it’s time to get a hold of himself.

Squeezing a bit of Wonshik's toothpaste onto his finger, he swirls it about his teeth in lieu of a toothbrush and then gives himself a last once over in the mirror. A smile tugs at his lips in his reflection which just makes his smile grow bigger and bigger and he ducks his head, fanning his cheeks.

With one last deep breath, he leaves the bathroom with his folded clothes and hovers in the lounge area after placing them on one of the sofas. He casts about for Wonshik but he’s nowhere in sight. He waits for a moment, listening, but can hear nothing.

"Wonshik?" he calls, nervously.

"In here." His voice comes from his bedroom and Taekwoon's stomach flips.

He takes tentative steps towards the open door and peers inside, eyes widening in disbelief and realisation.

Wonshik is already in his bed – which is absolutely massive, probably able to comfortably fit four people – sitting towards the middle with his back against the headboard and the covers pulled to his waist. He isn't wearing a shirt, though Taekwoon is grateful to catch a glimpse of the waistband of his own pair of pyjama bottoms peeking above the sheets. The corner of the duvet on the opposite side of the bed is folded back, inviting Taekwoon to climb in alongside him. He's only just understood that he isn't going to be sleeping out on the couch.

He swallows hard. Hakyeon will throw a fit when he finds out. If Taekwoon ever musters the courage to tell him, that is.

"Get in," Wonshik says, gesturing to the pulled back sheet.

Taekwoon knows he should probably refuse and explain to Wonshik that this is a bad idea, but he’s too greedy. Cuddling up in bed with him has been something he’s dreamed about for so long. He’d be a fool to ruin this opportunity.

"Okay," he replies, shuffling nervously into the room.

The sheets are, naturally, made of silk. He slips beneath them in awe and Wonshik beckons him closer.

When he’s hesitant to obey, Wonshik moves to him instead.

"You look cute in my clothes, kitten," he whispers in Taekwoon's ear, wrapping an arm around him.

Taekwoon flushes at least ten shades of red, but his mood darkens almost immediately.

"Don't call me that," he mutters, trying to turn away from him. If Wonshik is going to call him a pet name, he wants one that’s going to be specific to just them.

"Why? Don't you like it? I for one think it suits you perfectly," Wonshik says, bopping him on the nose with a finger.

Taekwoon knocks it away. "And who else does it suit perfectly? Your Monday-at-eight? Your Thursday-at-four?"

"I don't call anyone that but you," Wonshik says, looking wounded.

Taekwoon’s anger vanishes and he deflates.

"I don't have pet names for anyone else," Wonshik continues. "I shouldn’t have even used that one with you, but I couldn’t stop. I suppose I should have realised that means something important."

Taekwoon averts his eyes to his lap, feeling slightly embarrassed but mostly mollified.

Wonshik tilts his head, trying to catch Taekwoon’s eye. "Can I still use it?" he asks and Taekwoon nods. "Good," he says with an angelic smile, slipping further beneath the sheets to place his head on a pillow. "Now, cuddle me again. Kitten," he adds, and Taekwoon’s cheeks just get hotter.

He wants to lean down and kiss him goodnight, but he knows the kiss earlier wasn’t blanket permission to kiss him whenever he wants. It had been so meaningful to Wonshik that he’d used it to tell him how he feels and, for now, he wants to leave the decision to offer it up to him.

He ignores the impulse and shifts down the bed, hesitantly laying his head on Wonshik’s chest. Wonshik shifts Taekwoon’s thigh and eases it over his so it can settle between them, then he wraps an arm around him while he puts his other hand over Taekwoon’s on his chest.

"Good night," he rumbles in Taekwoon's ear.

"Good night," he replies, voice small but contented.

This whole evening has almost been too good to be true and a part of him is worried he’ll wake in the morning to discover he just suffered a blow to the head and none of this actually happened. If that really is the case, he needs to let go of all his worries just for this one night and soak in the warmth and bliss that comes with being in Wonshik’s arms. And if it isn’t? He’ll wake up in the morning the luckiest man alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Another (rambling) author’s note for previous readers. I’ve tried to keep it as spoiler free as possible, but if you haven’t read the original, you might not want to read what I’ve written below until you’ve read the next chapter)
> 
>  
> 
> *Nervous laughter* So… that kiss was new, huh? >_> Ngl I’m kind of low-key terrified at what the reaction to it might be lol
> 
> It was just something that hit me out of the blue as I was envisioning the scene in my head and letting the dialogue flow. Wonshik just kissed him out of nowhere without me even making the conscious decision for it to happen and I sat back like _Wait, what?_ But then the more I thought about it, the more I started thinking _Fuck. It fits._
> 
> With Taekwoon asking him to put his feelings into words over and over and Wonshik so reluctant to say it, it made sense that he’d end up being one to show how he felt instead of telling, especially with everything else we know about his character. Also, while rereading this fic in the past, the point where their first kiss used to take place started to feel wrong. Like it wouldn’t be a natural thing for Wonshik to do in that situation considering kissing people isn’t his instinct what with the rule of not kissing clients, and I wondered what it would be like for him to actually make the conscious decision to kiss Taekwoon instead of the way it did happen (It also felt like it lacked impact considering how big of a deal it should be).
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to give my thought process on the whole thing because changing their first kiss isn’t exactly a minor tweak. I hope no one considers this blasphemy lol. I’d love to know if I managed to catch you off-guard by it though haha
> 
> The kiss aside, I really hope this chapter lives up to what you were hoping for and is an improvement. I tried really hard to make their interactions feel natural but it was so hard considering they’ve not spoken much to each other before and then suddenly there’s an entire chapter of a continuous conversation. I really hope I did it justice!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t intend for the wait for this chapter to be this long, but I didn’t get home until 10:30 for the past three nights so I’ve had next to no editing time T_T (this was also a hard chapter to sort out, but it’s the last one affected by that plot tweak a few chapters back). Hopefully it’s smooth sailing from here on out. I want to get to the smut, goddammit!

When Taekwoon wakes the next morning, it’s with a stiff neck and dead arm but he feels wonderfully rested and cosy. It takes him a few moments to realise why.

Beneath him, Wonshik is just beginning to stir, one of his eyes cracking open. There’s sleepy dust gathered in the corners where his eyeliner would usually be and he looks sleep soft and fuzzy, blinking in surprise when he sees Taekwoon hovering over him. It turns to delight when the memory of the evening before shines in his eyes and his mouth twitches with a lazy smile.

"Mmm 'morning," he hums, stretching his arms above his head.

“Good morning,” Taekwoon says back, not much more than a whisper.

Wonshik stares up at him for a few long seconds before he lifts his head, and Taekwoon doesn’t move, holding his breath as their noses brush. He can see Wonshik hesitating and he waits, wanting to let him get comfortable in his own time. After a few seconds more, Wonshik surges forward the last couple of inches and presses their lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss. His head drops back to the pillow, his eyes shut, and Taekwoon is sure he can see the tint of a blush in his cheeks.

Taekwoon leans down and presses a light kiss between his eyes. "It's okay," he assures him, and he pulls back to see Wonshik smiling shyly. “You can do it whenever you want.”

“Careful,” Wonshik murmurs. “You might regret giving me that permission.”

Taekwoon knows that isn’t possible.

He sits up to distract himself from saying it out loud and Wonshik follows. The sheets have pooled around their hips and Taekwoon can’t help roving his eyes over Wonshik’s naked torso.

"Do you want breakfast?" Wonshik asks.

"Yes, please," he answers, snapping his gaze away despite already having been caught shamelessly staring.

He doesn’t want to keep objectifying him like this. He doesn’t want Wonshik to start doubting and think Taekwoon really is only interested in his body. But it’s just so difficult when he knows what sex with Wonshik is like and has been abstaining ever since they were last together. Being here with him now and knowing Wonshik would be on him in a heartbeat if Taekwoon just gave a word of agreement is testing his resolve. Thankfully, Wonshik crawls from the bed and pulls on a plain white t-shirt. It only lowers Taekwoon’s temptation by a fraction, but it’s just enough that he can actually function.

He watches as Wonshik disappears through a door to the right of the bed that Taekwoon didn’t notice the night before which must lead to an en suite. When he comes back, Taekwoon follows him to the living area and excuses himself to the main bathroom. Back in the kitchen, Wonshik is cracking eggs to scramble them and there’s bread ready to go in the toaster. In contradiction to Taekwoon’s deductions from the stack of takeout menus last night, it seems Wonshik is able to at least cook this much.

He hovers at the kitchen island, wanting to step forward and wrap his arms around Wonshik's waist as he stands at the stove, but he doesn’t have the confidence. What if a casual touch like that is something Wonshik needs to build himself up to? He opts for busying himself with making the toast instead and they move in harmony, the act of making breakfast together feeling somehow familiar. When the toast pops up, he butters the bread and takes a seat at the island where he’d been sitting last night. As Wonshik finishes dividing the scrambled egg between their plates, he reaches for his satchel still by the foot of his stool, wanting to check the messages on his phone.

Wonshik catches sight of the bag in his lap and his eyes go wide as he makes an aborted dive for it, shouting, “Wait!”

But Taekwoon is already looking inside and staring at a rolled-up wad of cash – a _lot_ of cash – that definitely hadn’t been there when he’d left work yesterday.

He lifts it out between his thumb and forefinger and looks at Wonshik, the obvious culprit. His arms are still frozen from where he’d tried to snatch his bag away and he looks horrified.

“What’s this?” Taekwoon asks, bewildered.

“Nothing!” Wonshik darts around the island and snatches the money from his hand to hold it behind his back. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“ _Wonshik_ ,” Taekwoon says in gentle reprimand and the other man deflates, his arms going limp by his sides. The money is clutched tight in one hand.

“It was for the last session you paid for. The one where you left,” he explains, barely opening his mouth and unable to meet Taekwoon’s eyes. “I put it in there when you were in the bathroom after dinner. You were supposed to find it when you got home but then… then last night happened and I’d forgotten it was there.”

Taekwoon’s frown only deepens as Wonshik talks. “Why would you think it was a good idea to give me that?”

Wonshik tugs on the hem of his shirt with his free hand and Taekwoon feels like he’s scolding a small child.

He shrugs. “I just thought… You’d paid for my time just to talk. I thought if I just paid for yours too, then…”

“We’d be even?” Taekwoon asks, filling in the blank.

Wonshik shrugs again and nods.

“Wonshik,” Taekwoon sighs, and there’s an overwhelming fondness swirling in his stomach amongst the dismay. How has he managed to live this long?

Wonshik winces as Taekwoon gets to his feet but he relaxes immediately when he draws him into his arms, holding onto him tightly in return.

“You never have to pay me to spend time with me. I don’t want your money, I just want you.”

“I know that now,” Wonshik mumbles. “But… all those times you paid to see me—”

“They don’t mean you owe me anything. It’s just the same as if you were spending time with your friends.”

Wonshik’s fingers tighten against his back then he draws away, head bowed. “Come on. Let’s eat before it gets cold,” he murmurs.

Taekwoon has learnt enough about him in the last twelve hours to know there’s something still not right, and he almost asks if he’s done something wrong. But Wonshik carries their plates over and sits beside him instead of opposite this time, so he at least doesn’t think it has something to do with him. It’s probably just lingering embarrassment and he wants Taekwoon to forget about it as soon as possible.

His mood seems to improve as they eat, and he starts to swing his leg back and forth so it brushes against Taekwoon’s, stealing a forkful of egg from his plate even though he still has plenty left on his own and giggling when Taekwoon tries to protest. It’s a sound he wants to hear every single day.

But as has always been the way for them so far, the happy mood can only last so long. It hits a bump when Taekwoon asks what he’s doing for the rest of the day.

"I have to work." Wonshik doesn't hesitate in the slightest when he says it, though he does sound disappointed.

Taekwoon stops chewing and stares at his plate, the toast suddenly taking on the texture of a scrap of carpet.

 _Silly Taekwoon_.

He'd gotten so caught up in their slice of domestic life that he'd already forgotten about the reality of the situation. A part of him had foolishly been hoping that Wonshik would announce he was quitting, leaving his job behind now there’s this new development between them. But it’s clear that Wonshik doesn’t have the same issues as he does when thinking about his occupation.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Wonshik asks him and Taekwoon's voice cracks when he answers.

"I'm working. And then I'm seeing my parents. We try to see each other at least once a month for a meal out." He forces himself to take another bite and act normal. This isn’t the time to face this crisis. “Do you see yours often?”

Wonshik freezes, his cutlery hovering over his plate where he’d been scraping up the last of his egg.

Taekwoon’s veins flood with ice. “Are they—” He thinks he’s put his foot in it, that Wonshik must be an orphan, but Wonshik shakes his head.

He eats his last mouthful then carries his plate to the sink, keeping his back to Taekwoon and passing a hand over his eyes. “They didn’t appreciate my career choice,” he murmurs.

Taekwoon’s heart aches and he wants to bundle him up in his arms again. He would have if they didn’t have the island between them which is probably a good thing. He gets the feeling Wonshik doesn’t want to be touched right now.

“Do you have anyone else?” He regrets the question immediately.

Wonshik’s shoulders are tense, and though he can’t see his face, he feels like there’s anger there. He can’t tell if it’s directed at him or just the situation in general.

Taekwoon swallows. “Sorry. I’m getting too personal.”

Wonshik shakes his head. “You said we need to get to know each other.” He turns to face him, leaning back against the counter with a smile fixed on his face that looks like it’s part of the mask he’s so used to wearing – and that Taekwoon is so used to seeing. “I’m gonna go get dressed. I can drop you home so you can get ready for work.” He disappears to his bedroom without waiting for an answer.

Taekwoon sits at the island for a while longer, listening to Wonshik rummage in his bedroom before the door to his en suite closes. He looks around at the apartment, noting for the first time that he hasn’t seen any photographs anywhere, no personal touches. Instead, he sees his TV easily over seventy inches big, his sound system which probably cost more than a month of Taekwoon’s rent, his lights with darkness sensors, the jacuzzi bath in the bathroom, the ridiculous size of his bed, even his flashy car down in the car park. Everywhere he looks, Wonshik has the latest and most expensive appliances and gadgets, and though at first it had all screamed money at Taekwoon, now he just wonders if it’s a void he’s been trying to fill with material possessions.

The more he looks at it all, the lonelier he feels himself, and his heart is heavy as he carries his plate to the counter and fills the dishwasher. He retrieves his clothes from the sofa and heads to the bathroom to change.

He’s ready before Wonshik, and is just checking messages on his phone from Hyuk and Hakyeon when he emerges from his room. He makes a beeline straight for Taekwoon in the kitchen and Taekwoon can’t help but gasp as he cages him in against the kitchen counter with his hips. He’s wearing a black and white Hawaiian shirt with flashes of pink tucked into black jeans with a pair of sunglasses hooked over the highest done up button. The eyeliner is back and there’s a little bit of a smirk around his lips, but Taekwoon can’t tell if it’s because of his reaction or if it’s an expression still lingering from the mask he’d started to put back up at their last conversation.

“Can I see you tonight?” he asks, enjoying their proximity. “If not, I'll be coming to visit you at work. Maybe you can fit me with that suit I wanted," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Taekwoon manages to find enough semblance of mind to push him back, laughing, sure that Wonshik wouldn’t be able to behave himself if he did come to see him. "Tonight's fine."

"At your place? I want to see it."

Taekwoon winces. It isn't anywhere near as impressive as Wonshik's apartment, but he agrees.

Wonshik spots his phone in his hand and they exchange numbers – just another thing to add to Taekwoon’s list of everything that seems too good to be true – and then Wonshik picks up his keys, asking if Taekwoon is ready to go. He lifts his bag over his shoulder and follows him to the door, already able to feel the summer heat begin to encroach as soon as they step outside. He’d forgotten all about it after spending the night in Wonshik’s air-conditioned apartment, cool enough they could spend the night wrapped around each other without discomfort.

They take the lift down to the car park and as Wonshik starts to drive, Taekwoon starts thinking about his parents. If he doesn’t speak to them, there’s a good chance he doesn’t speak to the rest of his family either, and Taekwoon can’t help feeling guilty. He too wishes Wonshik could leave his job behind. His reasons may be different, but he’s still already wondering if he’ll be able to eventually overlook it where Wonshik's parents couldn't.

That question plagues him for the whole journey home and his spirits sink further and further as the reality begins to sink in. Taekwoon is going to work to tailor suits and Wonshik is going to work to fuck someone. He doesn’t have a problem with Wonshik’s profession in general, but now they’ve admitted their feelings and are starting to feel out the beginnings of a relationship, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand Wonshik continuing it. But if the way he’d unconcernedly announced earlier that he had work today is any indication, he has no qualms over attempting both at once.

They only talk on the way to Taekwoon’s home when he offers directions, and though Wonshik’s silence could be because he doesn’t want to say goodbye, it’s the knowledge of what Wonshik's day will involve that is weighing on Taekwoon like a two-tonne weight.

When Wonshik pulls up outside his apartment block, Taekwoon puts his hand to the door handle but pauses for a moment. He’s probably about to make a huge mistake and he knows it goes against what he’d thought earlier about giving Wonshik time to get comfortable, but he spins around and grabs him by the collar, fusing their lips together in a fierce kiss. He pours everything he has into it, all of his passion and longing and heartache, and it has Wonshik humming into his mouth.

When he pulls away, he gazes fervently into Wonshik's eyes and then leaves without looking back.

He wants to make sure Wonshik is thinking about him – and only him – all day.


	19. Chapter 19

Taekwoon is restless for most of the day, wanting to see Wonshik again but also being consumed by images of the sorts of things he might be doing – or having done _to_ him.

What if he’s on his knees for someone or is in a threesome or, heaven forbid, what if he's been booked for one of the rooms in the basement? The awful thing is, he knows he doesn't just have an overactive imagination. At least one of his visions is going to have happened or be happening very soon. It’s torturous. And yet Wonshik sees nothing wrong with it.

Taekwoon understands they're going to have different opinions on sex and exclusivity, and it's something they're going to have to talk about, but he has no idea when he's supposed to bring it up. He knows it's too soon right now, but when is the right time? It’s not just a hobby for Wonshik, it’s his job. It’s not something he can just step away from so easily.

Despite his worries occasionally bringing him back to earth, he still spends most of the day fighting a smile from his face, reliving the night before. It's so different to the memories he’d always be reliving in the past of the sex between them, and so much better. Before, he’d have to remind himself that he didn’t know the real Wonshik and that he shouldn’t even call him by that name, but after seeing all those different, organic sides to him, he doesn't think of him as Ravi at all anymore. The Ravi he’d known may have made a couple of appearances, like when he'd tried to distract Taekwoon into agreeing to sex, but that was it. Even when Wonshik mentioned approaching Taekwoon if they'd met at a bar, he’d had a smirk on his face, but it wasn’t the one he’d always used when trying to be seductive as Ravi. Instead, it had somehow felt like the real, Wonshik version of it and he’s looking forward to seeing it again.

Luckily, Hakyeon isn’t here today to see him floating on his cloud. After all of Taekwoon’s moping, Hakyeon would probably have been able to know something had changed with him just by taking one breath in his vicinity, and he’s not sure what would be worse: having Hakyeon assume he went back for an appointment or to tell him the truth of what’s going on. He doesn’t think he’s ready to tell him about it yet. It still feels too fragile right now and there are still too many unknowns. But if this state of perpetual smiling continues, he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to hide it for.

He gets a text from Wonshik in the early afternoon and his hands shake as he opens it. It’s just a message asking what time he finishes work, without any flourishes, but he’s struggling to wrap his head around the fact that he can contact Wonshik this way anytime he wants instead of waiting weeks at a time for an appointment. He can ask him whatever questions are on his mind now instead of holding his tongue, knowing they weren’t appropriate before.

He lets him know he has an earlier shift and that he finishes work at four today, but he doesn’t hear a reply. He tries not to dwell on the thought that it’s probably because he’s working.

The end of his own work day approaches at a crawl. He can’t wait to get home and see Wonshik again. He’s already imagining getting to curl up with Wonshik in his own bed this time, waking in the morning to another bashful peck on the lips.

He’s still picturing it when four o’clock finally rolls around and he descends the steps outside the front of the store. For once, the sun is reflecting his mood.

At the bottom, he’s ready to turn right to begin his walk home, but he glances up and freezes when he spots Wonshik waiting for him. He’s leaning against his car just as he had been the day before, and the way Taekwoon’s stomach flips is so different to the despair he’d felt when he’d spotted him as he’d stepped out of the alley yesterday.

As soon as he’s over the shock of it, he heads straight for him, no longer able to contain the smile he’s been fighting all day.

“Hi,” Taekwoon murmurs when he reaches him.

Wonshik doesn’t answer. He reaches out instead to hook his hand around the back of Taekwoon’s neck and pull him in for a demanding kiss that Taekwoon melts into without hesitation. Wonshik’s tongue flicks against his bottom lip and Taekwoon groans, chasing a hint of peppermint as Wonshik pulls away, but a hand presses firmly against his chest. Wonshik is smirking, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction in a way that says _Payback_.

“Get in,” Wonshik says, leaving him to walk round the car to the driver’s seat.

Taekwoon climbs in the car in a daze. Thank God Hakyeon hadn’t been at work today to witness that.

Wonshik starts driving without need for directions this time and it’s not long at all before Taekwoon is showing him the vacant parking spot reserved for guests for his apartment. He’s nervous as he leads the way up, already imagining Wonshik wrinkling his nose upon seeing his home. In any other situation he’d be proud of it, but Wonshik’s apartment is on a whole other level and he knows comparisons are likely to spring up at every turn. He’s so nervous, he can’t look at Wonshik as he shows him inside, keeping his eyes averted as he shuts the door, and turning his back to dump his satchel on the coffee table.

“I don’t know if you want to get dinner or—” He cuts off with a gasp as arms snake around his waist and Wonshik’s tongue traces up the shell of his ear. His hand flies back to tangle in his hair and his mouth drops open even wider as Wonshik reaches down to cup him between his legs and squeeze. Taekwoon whines and he sounds needy even to his own ears, his body temperature skyrocketing.

He knows they should be taking this slow, that he needs to be the voice of reason, but Wonshik is here, in his apartment, and he’s sure he can still taste that hint of peppermint on his tongue and he just wants more, more, more. He had so many reasons yesterday for why they shouldn’t do this, but he can’t remember what they were now. Wonshik feels the same way he does, so why does he need to fight this?

He twists round in his arms and wastes no time in kissing him again and Wonshik responds just as eagerly. He presses Taekwoon against the nearest wall, taking his wrists and holding them above his head, and Taekwoon can feel a fire awakening in his groin. He moans into his mouth as Wonshik’s tongue twines with his, clutching at the shoulders of his shirt as Wonshik sucks gently.

It’s so different to all the times before, all the times he'd paid for. Because it’s real. The desire, the fervour. The kiss. Wonshik may have told him that it wasn’t an act with him, but it’s the first time he doesn’t need to feel doubt. He’d always reminded himself it meant nothing to Wonshik, to Ravi, but now, with the way Wonshik is kissing him, he can feel that he really does want it as much as Taekwoon does. He surrenders completely.

Before he knows it, he’s falling onto the couch and Wonshik is crawling on top of him, his fingers sweeping beneath Taekwoon's shirt and beginning to slide the fabric up his torso. His back arches, mind fuzzy with heightening lust, but they’re interrupted by a rhythmic knock at the door.

Taekwoon groans. He knows that knock.

"Leave it," Wonshik urges, sliding down to suck on his Adam's apple.

"I can't. It's my friend," he sighs.

Wonshik freezes, hovering above Taekwoon's collarbone. "Not that guy from the store." He sounds like he’s filled with dread.

"No, not that one. He works there too though."

Wonshik reluctantly sits up and Taekwoon moves to answer the door, his eyes landing on Hyuk, just as expected.

"Someone was leaving the building, so I came straight up," Hyuk explains, lifting the carrier bag he’s holding that looks like it’s filled with snacks. "I thought we could get dinner and hang out."

Taekwoon hears Wonshik's footsteps behind him and Hyuk's gaze slides over his shoulder, eyes widening at who he sees.

"They're doing house calls now?" he breathes, eyes shining with awe.

Taekwoon pulls the door to, peering at Hyuk through the crack. "Now's not really a good time."

"I'll say," Hyuk says, sniggering. "I should have called first. I'll go and see Hakyeon instead."

"Okay." Taekwoon can’t get the door shut quick enough, but the younger man presses his hand to the varnished wood before he can and leans in close.

"Have you paid him for a blowjob yet?" he asks, whispering. "He’s the best I've ever had." He gives him a furtive wink before strolling back along the corridor.

When Taekwoon clicks the door shut and leans his back against it, staring numbly into Wonshik's eyes, he feels as if the ground is crumbling away beneath his feet.


	20. Chapter 20

"How about we get back to where we left off?" Wonshik murmurs, stepping forward and placing a hand either side of Taekwoon's head against the door. He swoops in for a kiss, but Taekwoon shoves him back, hard.

"What's wrong?" Wonshik's brow is furrowed and Taekwoon splutters in disbelief.

"Are you telling me you didn't hear him?" he asks.

"I heard."

"And you're still asking me what's wrong?"

Wonshik’s frown tightens with irritation. "You know what I do for a living. What difference does it make if you know the guy?"

" _‘What difference does it make?’_ " Taekwoon shrieks and Wonshik winces.

"Perhaps you should have told him I was off-limits if you hate it that much," he answers, expression turning sulky. "It's not my fault."

Wonshik's defensive tone has Taekwoon's fists clenching.

"That's right. Yes. It's my fault. Of course. How silly of me. I should have informed the world your body was for me alone."

"For you alone?" Wonshik echoes, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

"Well, _I'm_ yours! Perhaps I should sleep with half my work colleagues. I'm sure you'd be singing a different tune then!"

"But it's my job."

"But it doesn't have to be!"

"But I like it."

A shrill laugh bursts from Taekwoon's lips and he sinks to his haunches, hands over his cheeks as he gazes up at Wonshik now towering over him. He knows Wonshik must like his job or he wouldn’t be doing it, but had he really thought that Taekwoon would have no problems with it continuing?

Wonshik's expression darkens and his nostrils flare. "You think you can just waltz into my life and twist it into something _you_ deem respectable?" His derisive laugh cuts deep. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'd thought I could have become someone special to you. Clearly I was mistaken."

"So, what you're saying is, you were going to make me pick? You or my job?"

"I'm saying... I'm saying I don't think I can do this." He climbs shakily to his feet, reaching for a nearby cabinet for support.

"Right." Wonshik laughs again but there’s no humour in it, just pain in his eyes. Taekwoon feels it like a physical wound. "And you didn't think of telling me that sooner? You had to wait until I'd given you every part of me? My lips and my heart?"

"That's not— I didn't—" Hearing Wonshik put it like that, hearing him say he'd given Taekwoon his heart, has his own constricting as if it’s been gripped in his fist.

Wonshik had admitted to wanting to get to know him. Taekwoon didn't realise he saw that as 'giving his heart', though he isn't sure why he’s so shocked. It’s clear Wonshik has probably never been in a romantic relationship of any sort, and Taekwoon sees too late that that confession had had a deeper meaning than he'd realised.

Wonshik rides over his attempts to articulate his intentions. "Oh, spare me. You knew exactly what you were doing. You act like you're so noble, wanting me for more than just my body. You wanted more alright. You wanted to be a step above the rest."

Taekwoon is overwhelmed by the near-broken expression on Wonshik's face, by his accusing eyes that actually look to be on the verge of tears. But something Wonshik said sticks out at him.

"You're the one who came looking for me," Taekwoon whispers and Wonshik falters.

"What?"

"You're saying I must have had some sort of plan to get you for myself, but I did my best to stay away from you. You're the one who tried to get closer. You're the one who showed up at my workplace and you're the one who took me to your apartment. You had me sleep in your bed. If anyone wanted more, it was you."

Wonshik scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head. "I've never heard so much bullshit," he spits.

Taekwoon tries to stay gentle in the face of his indignation. "You’re lonely, Wonshik."

"I don't need to listen to this," he snarls, wrenching the apartment door open.

"Okay. Run away. But you’ll realise I’m right."

" _I'm not_ —" He takes a breath to compose himself. "I’m not lonely. And I'm not running. I just want to get away from you and your... self-important opinions!"

Taekwoon jumps when Wonshik slams the door behind himself and stands rooted to the spot as he listens to Wonshik’s stomping footsteps fade away on the other side. His flustered exit is just proof that Taekwoon is right, even if Wonshik isn't conscious of it.

His legs are shaky as he staggers over to his sofa to sit down where they’d been kissing only minutes before.

Why does everything always have to change so fast between them?

He lets his head drop back against the cushions, guilt beginning to creep up as Wonshik's expression when he'd accused Taekwoon of manipulating him flashes behind his eyes with every blink. That’s not what he’d been trying to do. He’d just gotten swept up in everything happening between them, unable to step back and take that breath the voice at the back of his mind had been warning him about.

His outburst that Wonshik’s body should be for him alone makes him wince and he buries his face in his hands. It’s not that he doesn’t really feel that way, but he hates how it had come out, like he thinks of him as an object to own. He hadn’t intended to make a claim like that yet, not when they’re barely twenty-four hours into whatever _this_ is. He knows he can’t expect Wonshik to suddenly quit a well-paying job that can support his lifestyle if a week from now Taekwoon is going to realise they’re not actually a good match for each other, but surely it must have already crossed Wonshik’s mind that it was a future possibility?

Despite the guilt, there’s still a simmering of anger underneath it. Does Wonshik really believe it’s unreasonable for Taekwoon to hate that his body is being used by other people? That all moments of physical intimacy they might share will also be shared with countless others every day?

It isn't long before his anger starts to direct itself at Sanghyuk. The still-rational part of himself knows he has no right to blame Hyuk for anything because he’d chosen to keep his friend in the dark for fear of embarrassing himself. How could he have said "Oh, you know that prostitute you got me to book a session with? Yeah, that one. Well, I kind of fell in love with him." It makes him shudder just imagining it. He should have told him, though. Wonshik is right about that much at least.

He tries to remind himself that, without Hyuk, he wouldn't have even met Wonshik in the first place, but it doesn't help. He still wants to strangle him. And maybe cut off a few of his extremities. He can’t even begin to face the full implications of what Hyuk just told him.

His buzzer begins to sound, over and over, and it takes him a while to shake himself into action.

" _Taekwoon!_ " Hakyeon screeches once he answers. He should have known Hakyeon would make an appearance as soon as he heard from Hyuk.

He buzzes him up, and a minute later he’s hammering on Taekwoon's door with his fist.

" _Taekwoon! Stop what you're doing!_ "

He answers the door with a sigh and Hakyeon all but tumbles inside.

"Where is he?" he thunders, casting his eyes about the apartment before making a beeline for Taekwoon's room.

"He's not here, Hakyeon. He's gone." His voice doesn’t feel like his own.

"How did he even know where you live!" Hakyeon cries, spinning to face him.

Taekwoon lowers himself onto his sofa and Hakyeon plants his feet in front of him, crossing his arms menacingly.

He tells him everything. It takes twice as long as it should because Hakyeon takes to repeating everything he says in varying degrees of horror and disbelief. "You _went_ to his _apartment?_ " and "You _slept_ in his _bed?_ " and, Taekwoon's personal favourite, " _You_ _kissed him?_ " which really seems to be asking 'You do realise where his mouth's been?'

"Well," Hakyeon says when he's finished. "I'm not gonna say I told you so."

"You kinda just did."

Hakyeon sniffs. "I hope you've learnt your lesson after all this."

Taekwoon doesn’t answer and Hakyeon's lofty expression slides from his face.

"You _have_ learnt your lesson, haven't you?"

Taekwoon still doesn’t answer.

"Taekwoon!"

" _What_ , Hakyeon?" he groans.

While he'd been accounting the events to him, his anger had continued to grow along with the beginnings of a plan that he’s itching to put into action. It could end up being the nail in the coffin of his relationship with Wonshik - if ‘relationship’ is what it can even be called - but that thought isn’t enough to stop him.

He ushers Hakyeon out not long later, the older man turning around in the doorway.

"Just _please_ promise me you won't do anything stupid," he begs.

Taekwoon shuts the door on him. That’s not a promise he can make.

He hurries to his bedside table and wrenches open the drawer, sifting through it until he finds his membership card for what he hopes will be the last time.

So, he has no right to be upset that Wonshik is still giving himself to other people? And it makes no difference just because he happens to know one of his clients?

They'll see about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, this fic has now surpassed the original's word count. It seems I underestimated when I said this version would just be a few thousand words longer haha (There’s still at least another 10k to go!)
> 
> The update tomorrow will be two chapters at once.


	21. Chapter 21

Wonshik storms out of Taekwoon's apartment building, stuffing his hands into his pockets, eyes wet. But it’s not because of Taekwoon. The bright sunlight has just made him need to sneeze, that’s all.

_You’re lonely, Wonshik._

Lonely? Wonshik scoffs. What _is_ he talking about? Taekwoon’s the one who’s been paying for company. For Wonshik, he’s just a distraction. Something to entertain himself with. A passing fancy, nothing more. He has no right to dictate how Wonshik should live his life.

He’s so inconsequential that Wonshik thinks about him every waking moment for two weeks straight. While he eats, while he tries to sleep, while he’s _working_. It isn’t doing anything for his mood or his performance.

In an attempt to wash himself of Taekwoon once and for all, he takes a trip to the hair salon and emerges with a return to his signature white blond. Now he can get back on form and end all of this silliness.

At least, that’s what he'd thought until he arrives at work and checks his week's schedule and sees a very unwelcome appointment. It’s so absurd that he actually picks up his phone and has his thumb hovering over Taekwoon’s number ready to ask what the hell he thinks he’s playing at, before he realises what he’s about to do.

He shoves his phone back in his bag, breathing heavily. Taekwoon can do whatever he wants. See if Wonshik cares.

But he does care. What Taekwoon has specified for his appointment is so unthinkable Wonshik feels as if his heart is being tossed into a shredder. And it’s all because he let himself be vulnerable, for allowing himself to get attached. He’d thought he’d learned his lesson when his parents abandoned him for going against their wishes and choosing his own path. He'd been stupid to think that Taekwoon, a virtual stranger, could be any different.

But he hadn't been thinking. It’s Hongbin's fault, filling his head with ideas of crushes and lovers, making him forget the only outcome that comes with trusting people. It’s only ever disappointment and heartache. He’s better off alone. It’s served him well so far.

But no matter how much he reminds himself of the misery he's experienced at the hands of other people, he can't stop rolling over in the night, expecting to see Taekwoon lying next to him. He reaches out in the darkness only to be met with cold sheets, feeling extremely foolish. He'd only shared one night with him! Regardless, he finds himself wrapping an arm around his waist and pretending it isn't his own, stranded in the middle of a mattress that, for the first time, feels much too big.

He tosses and turns as the edges stretch out further and further, disappearing into the distance, and he starts to drown in the sheets. Taekwoon watches from the safety of a raft nearby and when Wonshik cries out for help, head dipping beneath the surface, the man just turns away. The raft sails on and vanishes into blackness and he wakes with a start, tangled tightly in the sheets with one arm trapped against his chest. It takes him longer than it should to get free and he emerges with a pounding heart, gasping for breath. He feels weak with lingering fear.

Stumbling out into the lounge, he sits in front of the window and presses his cheek to the icy glass in an attempt to ground himself as the room spins. His white hair shines in his reflection and he shuts his eyes.

Silence. That’s the thing that’s jumping out at him right now, pressing in on him from all sides like the world is holding its breath. It takes no effort to pretend he can hear Taekwoon here with him. Soft clattering as he gets ready in the bathroom. The clink of a glass in the kitchen. His soft breathing by his ear in slumber. The warmth of it.

But when he opens his eyes, he’s met with his cold, dark apartment again and it’s almost like he has to fight to breathe against the isolation. Going back to what he’d had before that taste of what it would be like to have someone in his life, to have Taekwoon in his life... it's no longer enough. That day at work when he'd had Taekwoon to go home to, for the first time in years, he’d felt like he had purpose.

He starts to shiver, but he doesn’t want to return to his bed. He tugs his blanket from the back of the couch where it had been folded instead and drapes it around his shoulders.

When he wakes in the morning, curled up on the floor, he can’t remember when he fell asleep. He’s struck with the painful reminder that it’s the day of Taekwoon's appointment.

He doesn't want to see him. Before the nightmare, he'd somehow managed to convince himself he could survive it, but now...

He can already see the point Taekwoon is trying to make. All he’d have to do is pick up the phone. One word and he could call this whole thing off and have him in his own bed instead, fingers tangling in his hair as Wonshik shows him that he takes back everything he said. That Taekwoon is right. About everything. He does want more. He wants anything that Taekwoon will give him. He'd rather wake up to Taekwoon every day, consequences be damned, than go through another appointment with a stranger.

But it’s too late, and he’s too stubborn and too scared to swallow his pride and do something about it. All that’s left is for him to put up his walls and just get through today’s appointment.

He hopes his already battered heart will see the other side.


	22. Chapter 22

"Montgomery."

Taekwoon is buzzed in a few moments later and the nerve-racking wait for his decisive appointment begins.

At work the day before, Hakyeon had taken to breathing down his neck for his entire shift and it didn't take a genius to work out why. He'd wanted to keep the fact he'd booked a day off a secret from the older man – because they both knew it could mean only one thing – but Hakyeon had been tasked with covering an appointment with one of Taekwoon's customers in his absence which had made it unavoidable.

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Hakyeon had growled, more than once.

"I'm not."

"You're not?" Hakyeon didn't believe that statement for a second.

And he was right not to. Because his plan is incredibly stupid. It will either wake the green-eyed dragon lying dormant inside Wonshik or, if the way he’d been acting like it was just sex and not a big deal could be believed, it will have no effect whatsoever. He's been so sure it will result in the former, but now he’s here, the latter is feeling more and more likely. Of course it isn’t a big deal for Wonshik. It’s as much a part of his daily routine as eating and sleeping. He’s probably been laughing at Taekwoon’s obvious ploy, wondering how he could possibly think it would mean anything to him. The plan had seemed like such a good idea when he'd booked it, but if Wonshik doesn’t stop him, it will backfire and he really might have to go through with it.

That thought has him shifting uneasily in his seat on the antique sofa occupying his waiting room, a ball of nausea resting heavy in his stomach.

He'd been holding out hope that he’d receive some sort of contact from Wonshik before the day arrived, yet he isn't too surprised by Wonshik's silence. The man is so stubborn! At least, Taekwoon hopes it’s because of his obstinacy and not because he's taken back his heart and moved on. If that turns out to be the case, Taekwoon will be devastated.

Just before a minute to go, he climbs to his feet in preparation, wiping his palms against his jeans in an attempt to mop up the sweat that seems to be pouring from them. Somehow, he thinks he might be even more nervous now than he had been at his very first session. At least that one had had a definite outcome.

A second later, the door opens and the man who had escorted him to his waiting room beckons him to follow. Once in the lift, he receives his usual key card with the golden 3.

Taekwoon has always thought of that room as _theirs_ and he just prays that Wonshik feels the same despite the many others he must have had inside. His plan partly hinges on hoping just that alone will make Wonshik furious enough to call the whole thing off.

All Taekwoon can do now is find out.

Standing in front of the familiar door, he slides the key card into the reader and takes a deep breath before pressing down on the handle. He steps inside and his spirit soars when he’s greeted by Wonshik's stare, ablaze with pure, murderous _rage_.


	23. Chapter 23

When the door opens and Taekwoon appears behind it, Wonshik’s heart leaps into his mouth and his hands fist in the sheets beneath him, seeing red. He wants to stride over and wring his insolent neck, but he’s distracted from the urge when Hongbin crawls from the mattress beside him.

He wants to wrestle him back onto the bed and smother him with a pillow to make sure he can never touch him, but instead it’s like his life force is draining away as Hongbin presses Taekwoon against the wall and trails his tongue up the side of his neck. Just seeing that small gesture turns him to stone, his body unresponsive despite his mind screaming at him to do anything to make it stop.

Taekwoon has paid for two hours of this. Wonshik doesn’t know how he’s going to survive.

Hongbin turns his head to glance at him in confusion but his focus is zeroed in on the hand Hongbin has cupped between Taekwoon’s legs instead. Taekwoon’s eyes are closed, lips already parted in bliss, and Wonshik is sure he sees his hips rock against Hongbin’s hand.

Hongbin leads him further into the room by the hips, sliding his hands up to drag Taekwoon’s shirt over his head, his fingers skimming up his torso with the fabric. Taekwoon is shuddering beneath Hongbin’s touch, his breaths quickening.

Wonshik's mouth is dry as his body climbs from the bed on its own, taking up position behind Taekwoon and settling his hands on his hips. Hongbin looks over Taekwoon’s shoulder at him, quirking his eyebrows in a way that asks _What's up with you?_

Wonshik ignores him and pulls off his own t-shirt, pressing up against Taekwoon’s back once he's tossed it aside. His hands fall back to Taekwoon’s hips and he shuts his eyes as he places a kiss at his neck, trying to pretend they’re alone. Taekwoon quivers at the touch, his breath catching.

 _You can do this_ , Wonshik encourages himself. Taekwoon is just another client. That's all this is.

He hears Hongbin pretending to fumble with getting Taekwoon’s belt undone, feigning clumsiness and excitement to get Taekwoon out of his clothes, a trick he almost always uses on people. Taekwoon tangles his fingers in Hongbin's hair, head rolling back onto Wonshik's shoulder, and Hongbin takes the opportunity to press his lips back to Taekwoon’s neck. Wonshik's stomach clenches.

Now he can see Taekwoon’s face: the flutter of his eyelids, the way his lashes fan out over his cheeks, his glistening lips parting in a delicate moan. Wonshik feels like the bottom of his stomach has fallen out, knowing none of these reactions are because of him.

Taekwoon’s jeans fall to the ground and Wonshik jumps at the thud of his heavy belt buckle hitting the floor. The fabric rustles like sandpaper in his ears as Taekwoon steps out of them and he swallows hard.

 _It’s just sex_.

The jeans get kicked away and Hongbin steps back, his dimples blossoming either side of a devilish smirk that usually has people a touch away from coming. But his expression tightens and irritation flashes in his eyes. He grabs Taekwoon by the jaw.

"Look at me," he orders, voice a dangerous, silky murmur, and satisfaction bursts in Wonshik's chest at the knowledge that Taekwoon is paying him no attention. That’s definitely something Hongbin isn’t used to.

When he’s satisfied that he has all of Taekwoon's focus, Hongbin pulls his t-shirt over his head, but as soon as the material interrupts their gaze, Wonshik touches his tongue to the base of Taekwoon's neck, following a line up to his ear where he catches the lobe between his teeth and gives a playful tug.

Taekwoon's eyelids flutter and Hongbin clears his throat as he tosses his shirt aside, furious that Wonshik is distracting their client from his display. He innocently raises his eyebrows and Hongbin's mouth twists with annoyance.

His colleague slides down his pyjama bottoms and briefs in one movement and Wonshik can tell by the downward tilt of Taekwoon’s head that the sight of Hongbin’s hard cock springing free has definitely caught his attention. Wonshik loses his grip on Taekwoon’s hips as Hongbin crowds him backwards onto the mattress, giving Wonshik the view of Taekwoon's half-hard cock beginning to strain against the pair of sleek black boxer briefs he’s wearing. Taekwoon stares at Hongbin's body as he crawls over him to place a knee either side of his thighs, and Wonshik doesn't miss the way he licks his lips or the haze of desire settling over his eyes as Hongbin hovers above him for a few long seconds to let him enjoy the view. It makes Wonshik feel sick to see Taekwoon is actually beginning to enjoy himself, to see the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip like all he can think about right now is getting his mouth on him.

Wonshik snaps the waistband of his pyjama bottoms against his skin in a bid for Taekwoon’s attention, satisfied when he manages to tear his eyes away from Hongbin. Taekwoon’s heated gaze rakes over him as he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband to pull his bottoms down with exaggerated slowness. Hongbin sees his chance for some payback and latches his lips onto one of Taekwoon’s nipples, stealing his attention back. He gasps, arching into Hongbin’s mouth and tangling his fingers in his hair.

Wonshik’s jaw tightens and he shoves his bottoms the rest of the way down and kicks them aside, diving onto the bed to swirl his tongue around Taekwoon’s other nipple, loath to be outdone.

Hongbin’s head sinks lower and Wonshik watches out of the corner of his eye as his fingers hook into Taekwoon's boxers and peel them down. He’s fully hard now, curving up towards his belly. Wonshik wants to kick Hongbin from the bed and take over, but Taekwoon has made requests for this session, things he’s paid for specifically, and he has no choice but to sit back and watch.

Hongbin holds out his hand towards him and Wonshik stares at it, hesitating. But there's nothing he can do. Spurred on by an irritated frown from Hongbin, he reaches over to the bedside table and hands him a condom, unable to look away as he tears open the packet and begins to roll it down Taekwoon's length.

Taekwoon's hand lands on Wonshik's thigh and he looks down to see him entranced by Hongbin's hand slowly pumping his cock. His head drops back and his eyes drift shut, but Hongbin isn't having it.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, mouth hovering over Taekwoon's cock.

Taekwoon lifts his head and a cheeky, lopsided smirk twitches on Hongbin's lips, one dimple making an appearance.

“Good boy.”

Taekwoon gasps and Wonshik feels like he's been punched in the stomach. No one else is supposed to call him that.

It leaves him paralysed, eyes going vacant until Taekwoon’s hand tightens on his thigh and he snaps back to himself to see Hongbin's lips have already parted over the head of Taekwoon's cock and are on their way to sliding all the way down to the base.

There’s a crease growing between Taekwoon’s eyebrows, lips pressing tighter and tighter together until he’s biting his bottom lip. But there's no lust in his eyes now, just discomfort like he’s forcing himself to endure it. Like he’s waiting for Wonshik to put a stop to it.

How could Wonshik be so stupid?

"Stop." The word rings in his ears as if he'd shouted but really it’s no more than a murmur.

Hongbin's questioning eyes flicker up to meet his from his position with half of Taekwoon's cock in his mouth.

Rage wells up inside him. "Get off him!" he snaps, pushing Hongbin back.

Hongbin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up, angry. "What the _hell_ is—" He cuts himself off, blinking in surprise before glancing between the two of them with the beginnings of an insufferable smirk that Wonshik just wants to slap off his face. "So _this_ is loverboy."

Wonshik aims a kick at him which he’s quick to dodge and he doesn't appreciate the view of Hongbin's erection bouncing between his legs as he jumps to his feet. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he turns back to Taekwoon just as he curls his hand around the back of Wonshik's neck and rises towards him. Wonshik meets him halfway with a tender kiss that soon turns voracious and pushes him back down to the mattress, shifting his position so he’s on top of him instead and grinding against him.

"But why am I involved?" Hongbin asks from behind and Taekwoon pulls back.

"Long story," he mumbles, staring into Wonshik's eyes.

"You can leave," Wonshik says, waving his hand over his shoulder, unable to break the gaze he shares with Taekwoon.

"Don't you think there are going to be a few questions asked if I leave before the time's up?"

"I don't give a fuck," Wonshik spits, his fury beginning to return, and he looks back to scowl at him. "I quit." He turns the glare on Taekwoon. " _Happy?_ "

In answer, Taekwoon hooks his hand around Wonshik's neck and pulls him back down for another kiss.

"By all means, carry on," Hongbin says, airily, voice moving to beside them. "But be prepared for your little tryst to be interrupted as soon as they find out."

Wonshik breaks away with a long-suffering sigh. "What do you want, Hongbin? Spit it out."

In answer, Hongbin sits expectantly in the desk chair to watch.

Wonshik rolls his eyes. "Do whatever the fuck you want. Just shut up." As long as Hongbin is no longer touching Taekwoon, he doesn't care what he does.

He narrows his eyes as he turns back to the man beneath him, considering what he’s going to do with him now he finally has him back where he wants him. With anger still simmering in his belly, payback is the first thing on his mind. Perhaps he’ll use this opportunity to carry out that fantasy he's had more than once whenever Taekwoon has pissed him off.

He fetches the lube from the bedside table and helps shift Taekwoon further up the bed until his head is on a pillow, then situates himself where Hongbin had been just minutes before. He peels off the condom, tossing it aside, and slicks his fingers in preparation. Once he’s sure Taekwoon is watching, he parts his lips and envelops him whole. Unlike Hongbin, he doesn't need to give an order to make sure Taekwoon won't take his eyes off him.

Taekwoon's eyebrows shoot up higher and higher as Wonshik sinks all the way down and his mouth drops open in disbelief which very quickly turns to bliss as his eyes roll back and he can no longer support his head. A strangled, keening moan permeates the room.

A flame of satisfaction ignites in Wonshik’s chest at the reaction. And it’s only the beginning.

Withdrawing to the tip, he swirls his tongue at the slit, and when he lowers back down, he slips a finger inside Taekwoon’s unsuspecting hole to the knuckle, keeping the same pace as his mouth. Taekwoon yelps and then groans loudly, not sure which way to rock his hips as Wonshik continues.

Once he adds a second finger, he changes the rhythm of his thrusting digits, sliding them in as his head pulls back, curving them directly to his prostate as he tongues at his slit, tasting the precome gathering there.

Needless to say, Taekwoon doesn't last long at all.

"Wonshik, I'm— I'm—" But instead of being followed by a scream of ecstasy, there’s a groan of utter dissatisfaction instead.

Wonshik has pulled away from him, squeezing Taekwoon's cock at the base with one hand to help hold back his orgasm as his fingers withdraw entirely. Taekwoon's head snaps up to stare at him in disbelief.

"You're...?" Wonshik prompts, taking an unbelievable amount of enjoyment from his displeasure.

" _Fuck_ ," Taekwoon mutters under his breath as he realises what he’s in for. His head drops back to the pillow and Wonshik grins.

He trails his lips over Taekwoon's inner thighs as he waits for his breathing to even out, sucking an impressive mark onto his skin when he finds a spot that makes him quiver. Taekwoon curses as Wonshik soothes his tongue over it, admiring his work stark against Taekwoon's pale skin.

When he feels like he’s teased them both long enough, he returns to Taekwoon’s cock with hunger and swallows him down, slipping both fingers back inside and scissoring them, drawing back to flick his tongue beneath the head. He continues the treatment until Taekwoon is ready to come and then he pulls off again, Taekwoon’s disappointed groan is like music to his ears.

And then he does it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

When he’s denied his orgasm for the seventh time, Taekwoon is writhing on the mattress, his hips bucking for some sort of friction between Wonshik's hand and his cock, but his efforts are fruitless. Tears of frustration well in his eyes.

"Please," he begs. " _Please_."

"Do you want to come in my mouth, kitten?" Wonshik asks, trailing his lips up the side of his cock.

Taekwoon nods, panting, though a wicked grin stretches Wonshik's lips wide and Taekwoon realises too late he probably shouldn't have been so honest.

Wonshik would love to have Taekwoon spilling his release down his throat, but he knows the culmination of his revenge will taste even sweeter. And anyway, there’s plenty of time for that later.

He engulfs him to the base once again, soothing his tongue against the vein on the underside as he withdraws, swallowing around him and flicking his tongue over the slit. He repeats the actions twice more as his fingers rub unrelenting over his prostate and releases him with an obscene pop just as Taekwoon comes undone.

"Well, that's too bad," Wonshik says, pumping Taekwoon’s cock in one hand and continuing his assault on his prostate with the other. He sits back to watch Taekwoon's hips jerk as he cries out and streaks his own torso with spurts of come.

As the aftershocks of his orgasm subside, Wonshik reaches out and swipes the tip of his finger over the head of Taekwoon’s cock, scooping up a dribble of come still oozing from the slit and sucking it clean. He can't let it all go to waste.

Taekwoon watches him through half-lidded eyes. "Not sure I deserved that," he pants.

"No, I should have stopped you at least five more times," Wonshik agrees and Taekwoon glares at him. “That was for the slap. I haven’t even started getting you back for the stunt you’ve pulled here.”

Taekwoon groans but the corners of his lips give away the twitch of a smile.

"You loved it," Wonshik says, voice rough with lust.

Taekwoon looks up at him, smile blooming fully on his lips. "It was incredible," he whispers and Wonshik glows with pride.

He crawls up the bed to kiss him, reaching for the lube where the bottle rests against Taekwoon's hip and slicking himself up. He’s waited months for this moment. He can’t tease himself any longer. Lifting Taekwoon's legs so they settle in the crooks of his elbows, he presses his palms to the mattress as he lowers his torso, the position bending Taekwoon nearly in two.

"Not yet," Taekwoon pleads, still spent from his orgasm, but Wonshik needs to be inside him again, if only to hold himself there.

Lining himself up, he looks into his eyes as he sheathes himself fully inside, watching his eyelids flutter closed as his blunt nails claw at Wonshik's back, mewling. It’s Wonshik’s favourite sound that Taekwoon makes and his hips stutter with the need to thrust. He forces himself to wait, peppering Taekwoon’s face with kisses until he reaches his lips and captures them with his own. He tilts his head, trying to get as deep as he can and Taekwoon responds just as eagerly, wrapping his arms around Wonshik’s neck to pull him closer.

He doesn’t know how much time passes but choked off moans start to sound in Taekwoon’s throat and Wonshik realises his hips have been rocking of their own accord. He pulls back from their kiss to see Taekwoon’s cock almost fully stiff between them once more and then Wonshik stops holding back.

The pace he sets is almost punishing, making Taekwoon's cock bounce against his stomach with every thrust. Taekwoon tries to reach for it, but Wonshik shifts their position so he can grab his wrists and uses his weight to hold them to the pillow above his head. He makes Taekwoon keep his legs spread in the air, the temperature between them skyrocketing, and sweat begins to trickle down Wonshik’s spine as he relentlessly drives inside Taekwoon's pliant body. It’s heaven to finally be inside him after all these months of longing, to watch his mouth fall open as he gasps for breath amongst moans of pleasure, barely able to keep his eyes open where they’re fixed on Wonshik’s face.

"So good for me, Taekwoon," he pants and Taekwoon’s body is racked with a shudder, eyes glazing over at the praise. "Made for me," he whispers, and Taekwoon throws his head back, crying out.

Wonshik presses a kiss to his throat and then lower to trail his lips along his collarbone. His thrusts begin to slow to something tender and he lets go of Taekwoon’s wrists, carefully lowering his legs and allowing him to wrap them around his waist as their lips collide again.

"Touch yourself," he orders as he pulls back for breath.

Taekwoon obeys with slow strokes of his hand, gazing up at him with a look filled with adoration that makes Wonshik feel as if he’s the centre of Taekwoon's universe. It steals the breath from his lungs.

From just that one look, his orgasm starts to build, and he leans down to Taekwoon's ear. "Where do you want me to come, kitten?" he gasps.

"Inside," Taekwoon answers immediately, panting. He speeds up the hand around his cock. "Fill me up. _Please_."

Taekwoon's legs tighten around his waist as if he’s worried Wonshik will do the opposite again, but there’s no way he has enough self-restraint for that. He wants it as badly as Taekwoon does.

Angling his hips to hit his prostate is all Taekwoon needs for his back to arch and his hole to clamp down. His cock jerks in his hand, painting himself with another load. Wonshik drives through Taekwoon's tightened muscles twice more before he finds his own release with a shout. He collapses on top of him, no strength in his arms as his orgasm quakes through his body.

He stays like that for a long while, Taekwoon's laboured breathing at his ear, as his heartbeat returns to normal. When he eventually pulls out, he looks down in time to see his come flood from Taekwoon's entrance and start pooling on the sheets. Taekwoon moans at the sensation and the sight makes Wonshik shudder with desire. He tugs on Taekwoon’s stretched rim with a fingertip.

“Maybe next time I’ll plug you up,” he murmurs. “Keep you full of me all day.”

Taekwoon whines and Wonshik watches as his hole clenches at the idea.

He kisses him hard on the mouth but Taekwoon is still too weak to return it with much skill.

Pulling back to gaze down at him, Wonshik strokes a hand over his hair. He hesitates before he speaks. "I won't be able to quit right away."

Taekwoon’s face flashes with hurt. "But... you said—"

Wonshik hushes him with a kiss. "I'll need to fulfil my scheduled appointments first. It's in my contract."

Taekwoon's expression goes blank and Wonshik can’t breathe for a moment, sure he’s about to tell him that isn't good enough.

"I can't see you again until then," he says instead and Wonshik nods, veins coursing with relief.

"I understand. _Now_ ," he adds with a wry smile. "But these," he continues, trailing his lips up Taekwoon's neck and along his jaw. "Are all yours." He kisses him again, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip, but he jumps when a voice comes from their right.

"You've got three minutes," Hongbin warns.

Wonshik had forgotten the other man was there and by the looks of it, so had Taekwoon, his cheeks starting to glow ruby red. He covers his face with his hands and Wonshik chuckles, pulling them away to press a kiss to his lips once more. He glances over at Hongbin, unsurprised to see his abs streaked with what looks like more than one orgasm and looking unbearably pleased with himself.

Wonshik rolls his eyes and helps Taekwoon clean himself up and get dressed.

"Sorry for using you like that," Taekwoon says to Hongbin once he’s decent, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Hongbin gives a wolfish grin, spinning from side to side in the chair, unabashed by his nudity. "Hey, I got a show. No harm done."

The clock strikes the hour and Wonshik holds Taekwoon's hand, tugging him in for one last kiss.

"I can still feel your come inside me," Taekwoon whispers against him and Wonshik groans; it’s going to be a very long month.

Opening the door, Taekwoon slowly walks backwards through it, their arms stretching out until their hands can no longer reach each other. With a final gaze of longing, Wonshik shuts the door, leaning his forehead against the painted wood.

"Well, you've definitely never fucked me like that."

"Shut _up_ , Hongbin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested, I imagine the full appointment Taekwoon requested would have been for Hongbin to fuck him from behind while Taekwoon gives Wonshik a blowjob, planning to make it purposely really sloppy because he’d be pretending he’s too busy moaning like a total slut for Hongbin to pay Wonshik any attention lol /hides
> 
> The final two chapters will both be going up at the same time tomorrow just like when I originally posted them because they flow nicely together. It's nearly over! :'(


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the amount of fluff in these next two chapters makes up for all that angsting ;)

As soon as the door shuts on Wonshik's final appointment, he holds his fists above his head in victory and flops back onto the mattress. He'd never thought he’d be so ready for his job to end but here he is, rejoicing. Remembering the way Taekwoon had looked at him the last time he'd seen him, the adoration in his eyes, has been the only thing getting him through this. He doesn't know how he's lived so long without it.

He doesn't linger in the building, but instead of going straight to see Taekwoon after saying his farewells to the colleagues he encounters on his way out, he forces himself to take it slow and return home. Spending a month apart from him has given Wonshik plenty of time to dream about how he wants their next meeting to go, and after much consideration and tweaking, he's made his decision.

After a long, hot soak in the bath to relax the tension in his muscles, he pulls on a fluffy robe and settles onto one of his sofas with his phone. He takes a deep breath to calm his sudden nerves, then dials Taekwoon's number and gazes out of the window as he waits.

Taekwoon answers on the third ring.

"Hello?"

Hearing his delicate voice on the other end of the line is like having fresh air breathed directly into his lungs. He shuts his eyes, a muted sigh flooding from his lips.

"I'd like to make an appointment," Wonshik says, without a greeting.

"What? Wonshik? What are you—"

"My password is _kitten_." He grins at the sharp gasp on the other end, waiting for Taekwoon's response.

"Whose services do you desire?" His voice is barely above a whisper, sounding so faint Wonshik wonders if he’s going to pass out.

"Taekwoon's."

"W-Where?"

"My bedroom." Wonshik sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as soon as he says it, soon to be driven mad by the thought of having Taekwoon at his mercy in his own bed.

"When?"

"One o'clock tomorrow."

"For how long?"

Wonshik can hear him growing more confident, eager even, and it makes his skin tingle. "The whole weekend."

"That'll cost you," Taekwoon quips.

"I'll pay it." He'd give absolutely anything.

Taekwoon pauses and Wonshik can so vividly picture him licking his lips. "Condoms?"

"None."

The answer has a strangled moan sounding on the other end and Wonshik's heart skips a beat. He remembers Taekwoon’s eagerness to have Wonshik come inside him, how his eyes had slid out of focus at the sensation of it leaking out, and his restraint nearly dissolves at the desire to head straight to Taekwoon’s and fuck him senseless right now. Why wait?

"Do you have any extra requests?" Taekwoon asks, his breathing uneven.

Wonshik takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stick to the plan. He needs to do this right.

"I'll be running errands until one, so I want him there before I return. I want him naked, three fingers deep, with his other hand around his cock. If he fails to obey, let him know there will be consequences."

Taekwoon’s voice takes on a sultry tone. "Taekwoon doesn't respond well to threats."

A dark chuckle tumbles from his lips. "Well, you tell the kitten that when I make threats, I make sure to follow through."

"I'll let him know."

Wonshik can almost taste the anticipation on his tongue.

He gives him the keycode to his apartment and then hangs up before he can give in to the soppy words bubbling just behind his lips. Things like _God, I've missed you_ and _It's over. I'm yours._ He's waited a month. He can wait one day more.

 

* * *

 

After an almost sleepless night, he heads to a café on the other side of the street to his apartment not long after twelve and sits in the window nursing a latte. He doesn't actually have any errands to run, he just needed an excuse to be out when Taekwoon arrives.

At twenty to one, a taxi pulls up outside the apartment block and he cranes his head, eyes lighting up when Taekwoon climbs out. The car drives away and as Taekwoon enters the building, a thrill zips through Wonshik at the knowledge that the next time he sees him, he’ll be naked and writhing on his mattress – that is, if Taekwoon obeys his requests.

But he knows Taekwoon. He knows how submissive he is, how much he loves obeying orders and how much he loves to be praised for it, to know that Wonshik is pleased with him. He’ll have followed Wonshik's requests to the letter.

Twenty minutes later, he’s in the lift up to his apartment, excitement tingling in all of his joints like electricity and his heart rate beginning to soar. When he opens his door, Taekwoon's shoes are arranged neatly in the entryway and Wonshik places his beside them, taking a moment to look down and absorb the sight of Taekwoon’s presence beside his. He can't wait for more of Taekwoon to spill over into every corner of his life.

Creeping further inside, he heads towards his bedroom door, ajar now despite definitely being closed before he'd left. Soft panting floats through the gap and he stops to listen, closing his eyes. He can hear the occasional hitched breath and he pictures Taekwoon working his fingers inside himself as he plays with the head of his cock and Wonshik's jeans begin to grow tight.

Sure enough, when he gives the door a push and lets it swing open, Taekwoon is nestled in a pile of pillows at the head of the bed, naked and his legs spread wide with three fingers thrusting as deep as he can get them while his other hand teases the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He’s found the lube.

Wonshik groans. "You're so fucking beautiful, kitten."

Taekwoon whimpers in response, dragging his thumb over the slit of his cock and smearing a bead of precome, and _God_ if that isn't the sexiest sound Wonshik has ever heard.

"How did it feel, touching yourself in my empty apartment?" he asks, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it down his arms.

Taekwoon absently licks his lips as his eyes rove Wonshik's naked torso, glinting with desire. "I could get used to it," he breathes, toes curling as he changes the angle of his fingers.

"I hope not," Wonshik replies, tugging down the zipper of his jeans. "I intend to be here every time you need me." It starts to hit him then, that he can have Taekwoon every day from this point forward, no more waiting weeks and months to see him again. And not only for sex. That night and morning Taekwoon had spent here before, where they'd shared meals and cuddled and woken up to each other, is just the beginning of what he has to look forward to. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to fully comprehend it.

His jeans join his t-shirt and then he spends a minute toying with the waistband of his boxer briefs in a way that has Taekwoon squirming on the pillows. When he finally slides them down and kicks them aside, he crawls up the bed towards him, not stopping until he’s hovering over him and can swoop down for an eager kiss; it’s been too long.

Taekwoon hums, arching up towards him for more, but Wonshik sits back on his knees to study him.

Now he’s closer, he can see the haze of lust and longing that’s settled over Taekwoon's eyes, the rosy flush that’s risen high in his cheeks, the way his lips glisten with every lick. His chest heaves with his laboured breaths, dark nipples taut peaks, and his stomach tightens as he twists his fingers inside himself. His other hand has settled at the base of his cock, motionless, and Wonshik pulls it aside.

Shifting backwards, he lowers himself down.

"Don't stop your fingers," he whispers, lapping once at the head of Taekwoon's throbbing cock before engulfing it inch by inch, sinking further and further.

Taekwoon's lips part and Wonshik can see he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch. He can't keep it up for long, head rolling back against the pillows he's propped himself up on once Wonshik's lips have slid to the base.

He keeps it simple, the flourishes of his tongue restricted to sweeping once over the head every time he draws back, cheeks hollowing, maintaining a torturous pace.

Taekwoon mewls and pants, arm shaking where he thrusts his fingers inside as Wonshik hums around him. A loud gasp bursts from Taekwoon’s lips, a sign he found his prostate, and Wonshik hums again. It isn't long until Taekwoon stutters an urgent warning.

"Wonshik! I— I can't—"

Wonshik envelops him fully in response and his utterance turns into a sharp cry as his back arches and his body shakes. His orgasm sweeps through him and Wonshik eagerly swallows every pulse, withdrawing slowly. After suckling at the tip for the last few drops, he lifts his head to gaze up at him.

Taekwoon reaches out and cups his jaw, breathing hard as his thumb drags his bottom lip down and lets it spring back into place. Then a heart-warming smile breaks out on his face, eyes curving to half moons, and the same joy swells in Wonshik’s chest.

He leaps forward, lips colliding with Taekwoon's in a kiss fierce with passion and delight, his heart singing. They’re both laughing, giggling, the sounds muffled between their lips.

Shifting above Taekwoon without parting, he feels around for the lube, rejoicing when his fingers land on the bottle. He attempts to prepare himself as Taekwoon wraps an arm around his neck, holding him so tightly against him that it’s difficult to focus on much else. It ends up being a sloppy job but the work Taekwoon has done with his fingers is more than enough and he eases himself inside with a blissful sigh of relief.

He remains motionless for a while, savouring the way it feels to be sheathed inside him and giving Taekwoon some more time to recover from his orgasm.

When Taekwoon bucks his hips to signify he’s ready, Wonshik starts to rock into him. It's an act that should feel like second nature but as the seconds pass, an unexpected tension starts to grow in his muscles instead, one that he doesn't quite understand. He didn't experience any trouble like this the last time they were together.

Taekwoon must notice the unease on his face. "What is it?"

"I don't know." He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Taekwoon’s shoulder. "I just... I've always had a time limit to think about. And the sex was always planned beforehand. And being in my own room... it just doesn't feel real." Hundreds of blurry faces flash behind his eyelids but Taekwoon’s hand on his cheek pulls him back to the present and he opens his eyes to gaze down at him.

"It's okay," Taekwoon whispers, running his hands over Wonshik's back and grazing his nails down his spine. "Just take it slow. Kiss me."

Wonshik obeys, fusing their lips together, and the fact that it’s an action he's never performed with any of his clients helps to ground him. The kisses are slow and languid and have him rolling his hips with the most delicious thrusts. Whenever he starts to speed up, as if racing towards an imaginary finish line, Taekwoon slides his hands down his back again, murmuring soothing things like, "It's just us. We've got all the time in the world."

Wonshik loses all sense of time, absorbed instead by the man beneath him, the way he moves, the sounds he makes, the look in his eyes, and his whole body is on fire with the knowledge that it’s the first of many, _many_ times.

One of Taekwoon's hands leaves his back to reach between them, but he swats him away, taking him in his own hand and matching his thrusts with loose strokes and the occasional, teasing squeeze. His orgasm creeps closer and he lifts one of Taekwoon's legs with his other arm to spread him wider and angles his hips to graze his prostate, shifting again to hit it directly.

Taekwoon is almost delirious with pleasure, eyes shut and mouth open, his cries increasing in volume until he stiffens for the second time that afternoon. He really is a sight to behold.

Wonshik joins him almost immediately, sinking his teeth into Taekwoon's shoulder to muffle a cry of his own, and lowers himself with shaky arms. They lay together until their breathing returns to normal and then Wonshik crawls to the edge of the bed to get some wipes. It’s greeted by a whine of displeasure from Taekwoon at being separated. He hurries back and cleans them both up, then relaxes into the pillows beside him, lacing their fingers together.

Taekwoon turns his head to press his face to Wonshik’s neck. “I missed you,” he whispers.

For a moment, Wonshik’s throat constricts with fear, but this is Taekwoon. He can let himself be vulnerable with him. He takes a deep breath and when he's sure the words will come without effort, he murmurs back, “I missed you, too.”

Taekwoon's smile curves against his neck and Wonshik runs his fingers through his hair.

"How did it go? Quitting?" Taekwoon asks, shifting back to look up at him.

"They offered me a higher salary and the permission to refuse some clients. They were desperate for me to stay. My regulars are apparently furious."

"I'm not surprised," Taekwoon says and Wonshik's veins course with pride.

"I told them why I couldn't."

"I know you did. I got a phone call."

Wonshik blinks and lifts his head to look at him.

"I've been banned," Taekwoon explains.

" _Good_ ," Wonshik growls. "If you _ever_ try something like that threesome again, I'll—"

"What? Spank me over your lap? Bend me over your kitchen counter?" Taekwoon asks, his eyes sparkling.

"You're getting too cheeky for your own good," Wonshik grumbles, though those suggestions sound incredibly inviting.

"Well, maybe I'll let you punish me later, but for now, it's my turn," Taekwoon whispers.


	25. Chapter 25

Taekwoon climbs on top of Wonshik and kisses a trail from his jaw to his navel, dipping his tongue inside as Wonshik had done to him the very first time they were together. He moves down further and gazes up at him, anticipation thrumming through his veins.

He can still feel the remnants of Wonshik's orgasm inside him and the sensation makes him feel so deliciously dirty he doesn't think his cock is ever going to go soft. On top of that, after months of desire and fantasising, he’s finally going to make Wonshik come in his mouth. With a groan of longing, he flicks his tongue over the slit then wraps his lips around the head of his cock, taking him in as far as he can – an embarrassing performance following Wonshik's expert display of swallowing him whole.

But Wonshik keens regardless, fingers twisting in the sheets, and Taekwoon withdraws with a wet pop.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Wonshik asks, lifting his head, eyes full of confusion.

"Fake it. You don't need to put on a show anymore. Just let it come naturally."

Wonshik quirks his eyebrow at the unintentional pun and Taekwoon rolls his eyes. He relaxes against the pillows. "I'll try."

Taekwoon returns to his cock, focusing on the new noises that Wonshik makes. He obeys Taekwoon's request for the most part (Taekwoon digs his nails into his thighs whenever he gets too exaggerated) and though he loves it when he’s vocal, there’s something so much more sensual when it’s stripped away. There’s more gasping and sighing, with occasional breathy moans in the back of his throat when Taekwoon does something he really likes, and he feels a swell of pride when he realises it’s a side of him that barely anyone - maybe no one at all - will have ever seen.

He reaches between his legs with his free hand and pumps himself in time with his hungry ministrations, eager for Wonshik to come undone in his mouth.

When Wonshik finally reaches his climax, it’s with a shout and then his lips stay open in a silent moan. Taekwoon watches his abs tighten in front of his eyes as his mouth is filled with his release and then he pulls back, giving a few rough strokes to milk every last drop from Wonshik's twitching cock and closing his eyes as the last of his orgasm streaks his cheek.

He reaches his own release with a delighted whine, Wonshik's come on his tongue and dripping down his face, and when Wonshik comes down from his high, he lifts his head and admires the view.

"You act all shy and innocent but, deep down... you're so _fucking dirty_ ," he pants.

Taekwoon scoops up some of the come on his cheek and sucks his thumb clean, smirking around it. Wonshik groans.

They clean themselves up again and Taekwoon sheepishly eyes the streaks of come he's left on the sheets.

"I don't think that's going to be the last time this weekend," Wonshik murmurs in his ear and Taekwoon blushes.

"I can't stay tomorrow though. I've got to work."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No. I've booked you for the weekend and that's what I'm having," Wonshik says, petulantly.

"But—"

Wonshik silences him with a kiss, licking his way into his mouth, and Taekwoon feels him grin when he goes limp beneath him.

"I suppose I can call in sick," Taekwoon mumbles.

"Good boy," Wonshik murmurs, tugging down on his bottom lip with his thumb.

Taekwoon’s face goes slack and Wonshik chuckles.

“One day, I’m going to tie your hands behind your back and tell you what a good boy you are over and over until you come untouched. I bet you could, couldn’t you?”

Taekwoon’s cock is valiantly attempting to give it a try right now just at the thought.

Wonshik cuddles him tight and Taekwoon breathes a satisfied sigh.

He can’t wait to see Hakyeon. When he'd announced Wonshik was quitting, Hakyeon had been sceptical to say the least, but his cynicism hadn't rubbed off. He’s going to be eating his words.

"What are you going to do now? For a job, I mean?" Taekwoon asks and Wonshik hums.

"I don't know. I've been so focused on finishing this one I didn't spare a thought for a new one. This was all your idea. Have you got any others?"

"You could model our suits," Taekwoon says, only half-joking, and Wonshik hums again, actually considering it.

"A model. Hmm. I can ask for the shots I've already had taken for a portfolio," he muses. Then his mouth twists with a smirk. "Or I could become a pornstar."

Taekwoon is so shocked he can't muster any words.

Wonshik's smirk widens. "You'll be my partner of course."

Taekwoon sags in relief and hits Wonshik's chest.

Wonshik quirks an eyebrow in surprise. "You're not saying no."

" _No!_ " Taekwoon shrieks. He'd thought it was such a ludicrous proposition that he didn't need to answer, but this is Wonshik he’s speaking to. Without explicitly forbidding it, he’d probably go ahead and give it a go.

"Then how about we make some home movies?" Wonshik asks, voice becoming a rumble in his chest.

Taekwoon shudders at the idea and bites his lip.

"I want to show you what you look like when I spread you open," Wonshik murmurs, running his tongue up the shell of his ear.

"What else do you want to do?" Taekwoon asks, surprised by his own boldness and the sultry tone in his voice.

"I want to hear you use dirty talk," Wonshik answers, without much hesitation.

"You want me to... to tell you I want you t-to... fuck me?" he asks.

Wonshik closes his eyes and moans. "Exactly like that."

"What else do you want?" Taekwoon props himself up to look down at him, growing more confident. Wonshik's job always revolved around other people's desires and he wants to know what his own are. "What do you like?"

Wonshik is contemplative. "I like it when you suck me off," he says, smirking. "I like the sounds you make. I love making you blush."

Taekwoon’s cheeks grow hot just at that statement and Wonshik pecks him on the lips, grinning.

"What about fantasies?"

His response is immediate. "For starters, I want to see you ride me. I want to have sex in the shower. I want to fuck you against the window."

" _The window?_ "

"What?" Wonshik asks, the picture of innocence. "It's one way."

That revelation has Taekwoon's shock melting away and he knows Wonshik can see him considering it.

After a few seconds of silence, he gathers enough courage to ask, "What about in your car?"

Wonshik blinks before a devilish smirk breaks out. "I like the way you think," he murmurs, leaning over to kiss him again. "Maybe I’ll bend you over the hood. Maybe I’ll get you naked while I stay fully clothed."

Taekwoon shivers, imagining standing in the open garage downstairs where anyone could find them. He turns his head and bites down on Wonshik’s collar bone, moaning.

Wonshik chuckles in his ear. "Someone likes that idea."

When Taekwoon manages to calm down, he licks his lips, nervous. "Have you ever thought about..."

"What?"

"Me... taking you?" he asks, his face feeling as if it’s glowing.

Wonshik smirks again. "A few times," he admits, nipping at his ear lobe. "I'm sure it can be arranged if you want to give it a go."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Wonshik is baffled by Taekwoon's surprise. "Now?" he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Taekwoon frantically shakes his head and buries his face in Wonshik's neck. He'll have to mentally prepare himself for it first. He’s sure he'll just be a disappointment.

"I can ride you if you're nervous," Wonshik whispers in his ear. "I hear I’m quite talented."

Taekwoon doesn’t doubt it. Picturing Wonshik writhing on his cock has his body feeling as if it’s been lit on fire.

"We could do that too," he whispers, hiding his face in Wonshik's neck again.

"I look forward to it," Wonshik replies, trailing a finger down Taekwoon's spine.

Taekwoon is hard again, already throbbing with their talk of all the things they might try together one day. He reaches down to toy with his cock and Wonshik must feel the movement because he looks down and tuts when he sees what Taekwoon is doing. He knocks his hand aside and rolls over to settle between his legs, revealing he’s just as hard. Their cocks press together and Taekwoon groans as Wonshik drizzles some lube between them and starts to rock his hips.

Taekwoon bucks upwards so they’re rutting against each other, lips meeting in a sloppy kiss that neither of them has the capacity to focus on. The slick slide of their cocks together feels so good and Taekwoon can barely breathe.

"Wonshik!" he gasps out, reaching down to squeeze Wonshik’s ass and pull him tighter against him. The fact that Wonshik wants to hear Taekwoon talk dirty is stuck sounding over and over in his head and he wants to say something, but he has no idea what. His mouth opens and his subconscious decides on something for him. "Love your cock," he pants.

Wonshik’s head snaps up to stare down at him in shock, mouth open. And then his eyes flutter shut and he _whines_ , his hips jolting as he comes all over Taekwoon’s stomach. Taekwoon can’t believe it, that anything he could say could affect him like that, that Wonshik just came before he did. It sends Taekwoon over the edge, fingers tangled in Wonshik’s hair and head thrown back into his pillow.

Wonshik pants against his neck, stickiness trapped between their stomachs. "Jesus Christ," he gasps and Taekwoon giggles breathlessly. He bites his lip as Wonshik lifts his head to look down at him.

"Did you like that?" Taekwoon teases.

Wonshik is shaking his head in disbelief. "That’s never happened before," he says, lifting his fist to cover his mouth as he laughs, embarrassed.

Taekwoon is revelling in seeing Wonshik’s cheeks pink for once. "It wasn’t even that dirty."

"No, but I’ve never heard you say anything like that before. Not without some prompting," he says and Taekwoon remembers their very first time together when Wonshik had made him beg.

Taekwoon tries not to smile so hard, but it feels amazing to know he has this newfound power and he’s already thinking of all the ways he might abuse it. Wonshik’s eyes go dark with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

Eventually, he manages to regain enough strength in his limbs to clean them both up, and then it’s back to snuggling and sharing lazy kisses. Their latest orgasms have left them surrounded by a contented haze, until Wonshik jerks and pulls back.

"I have a question," he says, eyes narrowing. "Why, out of everyone, did you have to pick Hongbin for your little stunt? In our room, too!"

Taekwoon blinks. "You thought of it as our room as well?”

A blush creeps into Wonshik’s cheeks. Taekwoon is in awe; two blushes in five minutes must be some sort of record. He leans up to peck him on the lips.

“I’d hoped doing it there might make you mad. As for Hongbin, I just asked for someone popular. I thought it would damage your pride."

Wonshik isn’t amused in the slightest. "He hasn't shut up since," he says, scowling.

"I liked him," Taekwoon says, remembering his cheeky manner and bright smile.

"Of course you did! He was sucking your cock!"

"Not a lot of sucking actually happened," Taekwoon reminds him. "Thanks to you," he adds, eyes filled with gratitude. He doesn't know what he would have done if it had continued.

"Yeah, well, no one's supposed to suck your cock but me."

That makes Taekwoon think of Hyuk and he winces. He's seen him in the month since his final appointment with Wonshik and has finally explained the situation to him. They'd both been embarrassed and Hyuk was incredibly apologetic – though he'd joked about being more than a little bit jealous that Taekwoon is going to have him all to himself.

"I can live with that," Taekwoon murmurs, pressing a kiss beneath his jaw.

Wonshik leans away, eyes still narrowed. “And _no one_ gets to call you good boy from now on but me,” Wonshik says, menacingly, but all ferocity is ruined by his bottom lip sticking out, making him look more like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

“Only you,” Taekwoon agrees. Hearing it from someone else had made his skin crawl.

 _Still_ Wonshik looks suspicious.

"I saw the way you were looking at him," he says.

"Who?"

"Hongbin!"

"What do you mean?" Taekwoon asks, flabbergasted.

"You wanted him! Admit it!"

Taekwoon laughs in disbelief. "I was just trying to do what you do. Pretending to desire him. I thought it might piss you off." He’s more than pleased to know that it had worked.

"You at least wanted him a little bit," Wonshik presses.

"No," Taekwoon says, entirely truthful. "Why would I want him when I have you?"

Wonshik looks mostly mollified at that, even if he is still pouting, nose in the air. Taekwoon reaches up to pinch his nipple.

"Ouch!"

"Can we get some food soon?" Taekwoon asks, ignoring him. His stomach is beginning to rumble and a glance at the clock on the bedside table reveals it’s already dinner time.

Wonshik's expression is still wounded as he rubs at his chest, but the mention of food at least seems to distract him. "What do you want?"

"Take out."

"I've got every menu under the sun," he announces, sliding to the edge of the bed and to his feet. He saunters out of the room and Taekwoon follows, though he stops to pull on his boxers and Wonshik's shirt first, all too aware of the walls of windows out in the living area.

Wonshik is in the kitchen, grabbing the pile of menus on the counter, and Taekwoon stops to admire him: the way his shoulder blades move, the flex of his muscles, the curve of his spine as it meets his ass. The realisation that he’ll be his to gaze at every day has his knees growing weak and he has to settle on his stool at the island before they can give out.

They decide on pizza and Taekwoon continues to watch Wonshik - _his boyfriend_ \- as he phones the order through. They move to the sofa to wait, cuddling up immediately in a way that’s reminiscent of that night when Wonshik first invited him to stay.

When the buzzer eventually sounds and Wonshik lets the deliverygirl up, Taekwoon’s eyes widen as Wonshik waits by the door.

"You're not answering the door naked?"

"Yeah?" Wonshik replies, baffled.

Taekwoon raises a disapproving eyebrow, waiting for him to realise the problem.

"But I like being naked," he sulks.

Taekwoon likes it when he’s naked too, but his expression remains the same.

"Fine," Wonshik huffs. He grabs his robe from the bathroom and when he opens the door, Taekwoon doesn't miss the way the deliverygirl's face drops as soon as she catches sight of his clothing.

"Do you _always_ answer the door naked?" he demands once it’s shut, and Wonshik's sheepish grin confirms his suspicions. "What if the delivery person is underage!" he shrieks.

Wonshik scoffs. "Yeah, because if _you_ were underage, you'd be so traumatised to see this," he says, loosening his robe so it starts to slide down his shoulders. "They love it. See," he says, shaking a box of garlic bread at him that they definitely didn't order. "They give me freebies."

Taekwoon scowls at him. "You're not doing it anymore."

"Fine," Wonshik huffs again and Taekwoon realises there are going to be quite a few habits he’s going to have to put an end to, many more he doesn’t even know about yet. He's looking forward to finding all of them out.

Once they've eaten, Wonshik asks if he wants to sit in the bath and Taekwoon doesn't need his wide, hopeful eyes to persuade him. He stands at the bathroom door as Wonshik runs the water and fetches him a towel.

He sinks into it with a blissful sigh which Wonshik echoes when he climbs in beside him. They sit next to each other, Wonshik's arm around his shoulders, and he snuggles his head into the crook of his neck. He jumps when Wonshik turns on the jacuzzi function and then proceeds to turn into a boneless lump as his muscles relax and the warmth seeps beneath his skin. Wonshik shifts their position so Taekwoon is sat between his legs, leaning back against his chest, and it isn't long before his eyelids begin to droop and he sinks into a doze.

Wonshik nudges him awake after an unknown length of time. "Time for bed," he murmurs but Taekwoon is loath to move despite knowing they'll be cuddling again soon enough.

His boyfriend helps him to dry, leaning down to kiss a mole on his upper arm and then the one beneath his eye, but he at least has enough sense remaining to wrap a towel around his waist before he leaves the bathroom.

He comes back with his toothbrush that he'd made sure to bring, and when they’re finished, they return to Wonshik's bedroom and curl up under the covers just as they'd done the first time they spent the night together.

"I missed this," Wonshik whispers and Taekwoon hums against his neck with a contented sigh. He’s asleep in seconds.

 

* * *

 

When Taekwoon wakes the next morning, Wonshik is still fast asleep, snoring softly, and he uses his chance to creep from the bed, pull on his underwear and sneak into the living area to call in sick for work.

When he returns, Wonshik is still out of it and he takes hold of the bottom of the sheet, pulling it slowly until his boyfriend is exposed to him. He crawls up the bed, taking care not to jostle him too much, and leans down to lap at his soft cock, watching as he starts to twitch.

Wonshik's eyelids flutter, hips rolling out of reflex, and when he finally wakes it’s with a breathy, drawn out, " _Fuuuuck_."

Taekwoon tries to get his mouth around him, wanting to feel him harden on his tongue, but Wonshik takes a deep breath and pushes him off. "Not here," he says, pulling Taekwoon off the bed and grabbing the lube, forcing him to follow him out into the lounge.

He stands Taekwoon in front of him, a foot from the window, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear. Taekwoon stops him, unsure.

"It's okay," Wonshik soothes. "No one can see."

Taekwoon shuts his eyes and nods, feeling his face grow hot when his half-hard cock is exposed, squirming when two of Wonshik's fingers slip inside him.

"Hands on the window," Wonshik orders, and Taekwoon obeys, bending forward and pushing his hips back for more.

"Open your eyes," comes Wonshik's second order and Taekwoon shakes his head.

"No."

Wonshik chuckles. "Go on." He thrusts his fingers against Taekwoon's prostate and his eyes snap open of their own accord.

The dizzying view sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock and his toes curl into the carpet.

"Oh my God," he moans, eyelids fluttering shut again, and Wonshik sucks on his earlobe.

"Mhmm," he hums.

Taekwoon feels the delicious stretch of Wonshik's length a minute later and his legs tremble, weight resting on his palms against the window.

Each rock of Wonshik's hips has the head of his own cock brushing against the cold glass, his body jerking at the shock of it. He glances down to see he’s smearing a bead of precome against the window and the physical evidence of their actions makes him shudder.

Wonshik's lips latch onto his neck and he starts to suck, harder than he ever has in their sessions. Taekwoon knows he’s going to have a mark but he’s too overwhelmed by all of the sensations to care too much about it. Later though, he intends to steer Wonshik’s head down to his thighs to mark him up like he had the last time they were together. He’d liked seeing it there and missed it when it faded all too soon. Maybe Taekwoon will even return the favour.

He can see Wonshik's faint reflection beside his head, white hair and dark eyes, and he decides that, next time, they’re going to have to do it in front of a mirror, preferably at the side so he can see the sinful rolls of Wonshik’s hips.

It doesn't take much at all for him to reach his peak, his come spurting out to paint the glass, and once Wonshik meets his own release, he chuckles in Taekwoon’s ear, licking the rim. "I lied about it being one way," he pants.

" _WONSHIK!_ " Taekwoon shrieks.

He tries to cover himself but Wonshik grabs his hands and holds them to the window either side of his head, lacing their fingers. He whines and struggles feebly against him, feeling Wonshik already getting hard again, showing just how much he likes being on display. Taekwoon flushes to feel his own cock beginning to stir, once again brushing against the glass streaked with his come. He’s unable to deny any longer that he’s also extremely turned on.

When he’s ready, Wonshik starts to fuck him slow and deep, the position and pace reminiscent of the time they made love, and his head rolls back to lean on Wonshik's shoulder. His eyes fall closed, lips dry as he fights for breath, and he feels as if he’s about to float away.

He thinks back to the very first time he saw Wonshik – or Ravi as he'd been at the time. Who would have thought seeing those photos scrolling across that television screen could have led to him finding this? And there’s so much more to come.

Wonshik's hand wraps around him and his thoughts come to a grinding halt as he rocks himself forward into his fist and back onto his cock, Wonshik ceasing his movements for a while to let Taekwoon do the work. How he’s managing to stay on his feet is beyond him.

Soft cries of Wonshik's ecstasy are filling his ears and he shivers, open-mouthed moans of his own escaping when Wonshik takes control again. His arm wraps around Taekwoon's waist as he continues stroking his cock.

Taekwoon reaches back to tangle his fingers in Wonshik's hair and turns his head, just as he'd done when they were in this position all those months ago, though this time their lips meet in a sweet, adoring kiss, one that he hopes to taste forever.

Wonshik's hips begin to lose their rhythm, jerking with more force, and Taekwoon gazes out at the city before him through half-lidded eyes as his orgasm swells ever closer. His heart is so full, he thinks he might burst, ready to overflow with all the emotions he feels for the man behind him. He’s petulant and tender and stubborn and beautiful and Taekwoon thinks he’s probably in love. Tears prick at his eyes again, all the sensations growing and growing until it’s nearly too much, heart pounding in his chest.

"Come for me, kitten," Wonshik breathes in his ear, and Taekwoon does just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! The end! (Until I decide to revamp it again in another three years lol. I’m probably going to sit and read through it from the beginning now it’s done and tweak a thousand more things!)
> 
> I hope first time readers enjoyed it and the people who have read this before found it a worthwhile reread (Did you notice the extra orgasm? ;) ). This fic really does hold a special place in my heart.
> 
> But this series isn’t finished yet! I still have the one shot ‘Home’ to post soon and I hope to actually finish House of Mirrors (a Chabean sequel/spinoff) now I can remember how I used to write these characters. For those who don’t know, it takes place a few months from where this fic ends, after Taekwoon has moved in with Wonshik and they’re living as a sappy, angst-free couple, so Wontaek is still a prominent part of the fic (the first chapter is probably my favourite Wontaek I’ve written in this AU because it gave me a chance to actually write them as an established couple. It always makes me feel a bit gooey when I reread it haha).
> 
> I also have plenty of ideas for one shots (you know the part in this chapter where Wonshik says he’s going to tie Taekwoon up and call him good boy over and over? ...I’ve kind of already half written it >///<). So if any of that sounds good to you, make sure to click on the link to the House of Blossoms series below and click subscribe there! I’ll also be posting it all on my tumblr [@chimwonshik](https://chimwonshik.tumblr.com) too, so you can also keep track of it there.
> 
> I just want to say a big thank you to the handful of people who have been following this revamp from the start, leaving comments on every chapter. It’s been a really great motivator, whether it’s seeing your reactions because you’re reading it for the first time or seeing rereaders actually pick out the differences I made. I wasn’t sure if anyone would even care when I started this, so I’ve appreciated your feedback so much! Thank you TvT
> 
> Until next time...


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